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CHAELIE I>RESE^'TIXG THE COLLAR AND CUFFS. 

p. 37. 


EMILY HERBERT; 

OK, 

THE HAPPY HOME. 


BY 


AUTHOR OF 


M.yJ.'^McINTOSII, 

“blind ALICE^” “JESSIE GRAHAM,” “FLORENCE 
ARNOTT,” ETC. ETC. ■ - 



“ Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as 
God, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven you.”— Eph. 4 : 32. 



NEW YOKE: 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 

346 & 348 BKOADWAT. 

LONDON: 16 LITTLE BRITAIN. 

M.DCCC.LV. ^ ^ P 


E/w 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 

New York. 


To the little friends who presented her with the 
beautiful port-folio on which it was written, this nar- 
rative of a young girl’s sorrows and joys, is affec- 
tionately dedicated by 


The Author. 



PKEFACE. 


Aunt Kitty hopes that her young friends will 
welcome her again to their circle, not without pleasure, 
after her long absence. This hope is founded, not 
w only on the many affectionate invitations she has re- 
^ceived from them from time to time, but also on the 
belief that they cannot fail to be interested in some 
of the many histories, which she has collected for 
their gratification. They will remember, doubtless, 
that Aunt Kitty always desired to blend with their 
amusement, a deeper and holier purpose — even the 
recommending to them of those things which are pure 
and lovely and of good report, and the winning them, 
. by God’s blessing, to the number of those who love 
Him and are loved by Him. 


2 


PREFACE. 


As in Blind Alice she endeavored to show them 
how each one of them might he happy in herself, in 
Emily Herbert, the first volume of the present series, 
she has sought to instruct them in the best means of 
making “ Home ” happy. 

Should her reception accord with her hopes, Aunt 
Kitty will delight often to gather them around her in 
the evenings of the approaching winter, and to enliven 
the tedious hours with a tale. They will not, she 
trusts, be displeased, if on such occasions, among 
many new acquaintances, they should sometimes recog- 
nize an old one, in a new and more attractive dress. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


CHAPTER I. 

Emily Herbert had a faint, dim memory 
of a home very different from that in which she 
now lived — a home in which a fond father had 
danced her on his knee and carried her in his 
arms. This home she remembered as having 
been in a house whose rooms were large and 
beautiful. One of these rooms had seemed pecu- 
liarly her own. There she and the little baby 
Carrie had slept with a kind, good-natured, fat, 
old woman whom they had called Hursey, and 
there were kept their dolls, their dinner-sets and 
tea-sets of China, and there, in a corner, stood 
the hobby-horse which had descended to them 


6 


EMILY HERBERT. 


from Charlie. Very different, indeed, from this 
house was that in which, at six years old, Emily 
found herself living with her mother, her brother 
and little Carrie, the two years old darling and 
pet. There are some things which even a child 
remembers well, and Emily never found any 
dimness or indistinctness about one very sad day 
in her early and beautiful home — the day in 
which death had come to that home, and taken 
away the dear papa who had so fondled and 
petted her. She remembered well the solemn 
stillness of the house, the sorrow in every face, 
the darkened room in which her mamma lay 
stricken down by her great grief — then the as- 
sembled company, the strange scarfs worn by the 
clergymen, and the heavy pall of black velvet, 
under which she had been told her father lay. 

All this was very clear in Emily's mind, and 
not less clear was the memory of another day, 
not many months after, when she and her 
brother and sister sat in a little room apart, 
with their weeping mother, and heard strange 
steps tramping through their beautiful parlors, 
in the deserted chambers and up and down the 


EHriLY HERBERT. 


7 


stairs, and then a loud voice talking very fast, 
so fast that, though they Hstened very careful- 
ly, the only words they could catch were “going 
— going — gone"' — ^words which they did not 
understand at all, and of which they could not 
ask their mamma because she looked so troubled 
and wept so bitterly. When the crowd of 
strange people had left the house, however, and 
they were permitted to escape from the confine- 
ment of their little room, they began to under- 
stand these odd words, or at least to feel that 
they had something to do with the furniture 
of their home, its pretty chairs and sofas, and 
curtains and pianos and carpets — ^for many of 
these things were gone and the rest were going 
in the carts now standing at the door. A few 
more days passed, during which the wondering 
children wandered about the unfurnished rooms, 
their steps sounding strangely on the uncarpet- 
ed floors, ate in the kitchen with the one servant 
maid left — Nursey had gone before the chairs 
and tables, — and slept in the only room that was 
not quite hare of furniture, and then they and 
their mother went to their present home, the 
third floor of a small house in Bank street. 


8 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Bank street looked very narrow to tke ckil- 
dren after living in Waverley Place, and the 
house seemed veiy small in comparison with 
their former home ; and the neat, careful, un- 
married sisters, who lived below them, had to 
trouble poor Mrs. Herbert with many com- 
plaints, ere they could he taught that they 
must not enter the parlors on the first fioor or 
the chambers on the second. But they learned 
at last, and then Miss Duncan and her sister 
Miss Sally became very kind, and would often 
ask them into their parlor to take a piece of 
cake when they were at tea, or to see the pret- 
ty fiowers blooming there, and soon the memory 
of their former home became, as we have already 
said, very indistinct in Emily’s mind, except as 
it was associated with the two days we have 
described — that of her father’s funeral and that 
on which their furniture was carried off. 

Mrs. Herbert remembered better of course, 
and grieved more than her children could do, 
over her past happiness, yet she was very thank- 
ful to her Heavenly Father, that He had kept 
to her the kind promise He has made in His 


EMILY HERBERT. 


9 


own word to those who love Him, that their 
“ bread shall not fail.^^ She and her children 
could no longer live in a fine house, or use 
handsome furniture, or wear rich dresses ; hut 
they had still a home which was clean and neat, 
decent clothing and wholesome food, and still 
Emily and Carrie recited to her the hymn 
which they had been taught long ago : 

“ Whene’er I take my walks abroad, 

How many poor I see ! 

What shall I render to my God, 

For all his gifts to me ? 

“Not more than others I deserve, 

Yet God has given me more, 

For I have food while others starve, 

Or beg from door to door.” 


10 


EMILY HERBEKT. 


CHAPTEE II. 

Those of my young readers who have heard 
that it costs less to live in the country than in 
the city, may he desirous to know why Mrs. 
Herbert should not have made her home in a 
pretty cottage in the country, amongst green 
fields and fiower-gardens, instead of making it 
in the third story of a small house in a narrow 
street of Hew York. It was not for her own 
sake, you may be assured, for it was in truth 
very painful to her to live in such altered cir- 
cumstances, so near her former home. But 
Mrs. Herbert, like a good mother, thought 
more of what would be for her children’s advan- 
tage than of what would please herself It 
would have been very agreeable to her to go 
into the quiet, pretty country, where the little 


EMILY HERBERT. 


11 


income of eight hundred dollars which had been 
saved for her out of her husband's large fortune, 
might have supported her cliildren and herself, 
without any labor on her part. Her friends 
proposed to her that she should do this ; and 
one gentleman urged it very strongly, promis- 
ing, if she would follow his advice, to take 
Charlie when he was two or three years older — 
he was only ten then — ^into his counting-house. 
Mrs. Herbert had her own plans for Charlie, 
but before she would reply to this kind gentle- 
man's olfer she determined to ask Charlie him- 
self, little boy as he was, what he thought of it. 
She did this in the evening of the day on which 
all their furniture had been carried off from 
their home in Waverley Place. Charlie, of 
course, had understood something more of what 
he had seen and heard in his home on that day 
than Emily at five, or his baby sister ; and he 
was not very much surprised therefore, when, 
drawing him to her side, his mother said, ^^Do 
you know that we are very poor now, Charlie, 
and must leave our pleasant home here for one 
in which the poor may live ? " 


12 


EMILY HERBERT. 


We have said that Charlie was not very- 
much surprised, hut you will easily believe that 
he was greatly grieved to find that all he feared 
was true. He was not quite ignorant of the 
kind of homes in which the poor usually lived, 
for he had sometimes gone to them with his 
good father to carry food, or medicine, or a 
small sum of money to their sick or suffering 
inhabitants, and the thought that his own dar- 
ling mother should live in one of these filthy 
hovels, was so painful to him, that he hurst 
into tears and sobbed out, Oh, mother ! please 
sell my pony, and take all the money for your- 
self, and let me hire myself out to work and pay 
you my wages ; but don't go to live in one of 
those poor people's houses— please don't." 

The mother drew her boy closer to her 
bosom and kissed his quivering lips, with a joy- 
ful feeling at her heart even amidst all her sor- 
row, as she found him thus thinking, not of his 
own comfort, but of hers, and willing to sacri- 
fice even his cherished pony to her. 

Do not be so distressed, my darling boy," 
she said, while her own tears dropped upon his 


EMILY HERBERT. 


13 


head — we must indeed sell your pretty pony, 
and one day you will, I doubt not, work for me 
and for your little sisters, but now, it is not 
necessary ; our good Heavenly Father has not 
suffered all to be taken away from us — ^we have 
still enough for food and clothing, and for a 
home too, though not for such a home as we 
have been accustomed to.^' 

But, dear mamma, poor people's homes 
are so very dark and dirty, and disagreeable — I 
cannot bear that you should live in one of 
them." 

I could live any where, I could be happy 
almost any where, with such a dear, affection- 
ate son at my side," said Mrs. Herbert, smiling 
for the first time since her husband's death, 
even while her eyes were full of tears, but I 
promise you, Charlie, that, let our home be 
where it will, it shall neither be dark, nor dirty, 
nor disagreeable — it will be a happy home yet, 
if my children are only good and patient." 

“ And where will it be, mamma ?" 

‘‘ It is of that I want to speak to you, my 
son — I think I shall let you choose for me after 


14 


EMILY HERBERT. 


I have told you all we can do. Such a house 
as this would cost two thousand dollars rent, 
and we can only give two hundred. With this 
sum we may rent a very nice cottage in the 
country, or a part of a light, airy, but small 
house in the city.'' 

Oh, mamma ! please let us have the cot- 
tage in the country ; we can have such splen- 
did rides on pony — oh ! I forgot, we must sell 
pony ; hut we can have such pretty walks and 
flowers, and bees and honey — oh, mamma ! let 
us go in the country." 

And Mrs. Herbert looked in his bright, ani- 
mated face, and thought of the health and the 
happiness of such a life for her children, and 
wished that she too could say let us go in the 
country ; " but she remembered that Charlie 
would not always be a boy, and that in the 
country he must grow up a comparatively igno- 
rant man, as she had not the money necessary 
to pay for his education, while he might receive 
the very best tuition, without expense, at the 
free schools of New York and at its noble Free 
Academy, and so she answered instead, Wait 


EMILY HERBERT. 


15 


until you hear all I have to say, my dear boy, 
before you decide. Even if we had continued 
as rich as we once were I should not have wish- 
ed you — ^you would not have have wished your- 
self, I hope, to grow up an ignorant, idle man. 
You remember what your dear father often said 
to you of the importance of education, that you 
might fit yourself to do some good and noble 
work in the world. Now, if we live in the coun- 
try, we shall have no good schools near us and 
I cannot afford to send you away to school, so 
you would grow up with no education hut 
what I could give you myself at home — in the 
city you can he taught without expense.'^ 

How, mamma ? 

At the free schools — ” 

With those poor, dirty, vulgar hoys 7 
interrupted Charlie, with something of scorn in 
his tone. 

You are a poor hoy, Charlie,"^ said his 
mother, looking mournfully upon him, hut 
you need never he a dirty or a vulgar one.” 

Charlie looked down, ashamed of having 
given his mother pain, hut still unreconciled to 


16 


EMILY HERBERT. 


the free schools, and quite determined to choose 
the country as his home. Mrs. Herbert con- 
tinued. 

‘^You would not, I think, my son, he will- 
ing always to live with us, even if we should 
live in the country. You just now offered to 
work for me ; this you might do as you grow 
older — you might gain such a fortune as would 
enable you to help your sisters — 

And you, mamma? — could I buy back our 
dear old home and all our pretty things that 
went off to day, and could we all live here 
again ? '' 

Mrs. Herbert would not discourage the boy's 
sanguine spirit ; she knew some strong hope 
would be needed to enable him to endure the 
many mortifications in store for him. That 
which Charlie proposed was not impossible, and 
she answered, “ Even that you may do, my son, 
if you have the advantages which a good educa- 
tion will give you." 

Then we will stay in the city, mamma." 

“ And you will go to the free schools ? " 
Yes, mamma" — ^but the boyish voice fal- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


17 


tered in spite of all Charlie's efforts, and after a 
moment's struggle, his bosom heaved, and drop- 
ping his head into his mother's lap, he burst 
into tears. 

Mrs. Herbert was a tender mother, but she 
was also a sensible woman ; she kissed the 
curly head that rested on her lap, and called 
liim her darling boy, her noble Charlie, who 
would one day be her support, as he was now 
her pride and her hope, but she did not release 
him from his promise. 

And so Mrs. Herbert and her children 
moved to the third story of Miss Duncan's 
house in Bank street, and Charlie went to the 
free school. This was a great trial to him at 
first, for Charlie was a little spoiled, and hav- 
ing always lived in a handsome house, and worn 
fine clothing and been called a little gentleman, 
he was too much inclined to look with con- 
tempt upon those in different circumstances, 
and to feel that they were not fit associates for 
him, forgetting that they were children of the 
same Heavenly Father. 

I would like to tell you of Charlie's first 


18 


EMILY HERBERT. 


weeks at sckool ; to relate how at first he drew 
on him the ill will of his companions by his airs 
of snperiority, and almost broke his mother’s 
heart by his own passionate sorrow, and by his 
details of the rudeness and unkindness which 
he had himself provoked. I would like to show 
you how his good mother and his sensible and 
gentlemanly teacher, succeeded at length in 
making him feel that much of the evil that 
afflicted him was in himself ; and how, as he 
became more forbearing and kind to others, 
they grew more considerate of him, until he 
ceased to complain of his school-mates or to dis- 
like his school. This history I may one day 
give you, but at present our business is less with 
Charhe than with Emily, to whom we return. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


19 


CHAPTEE III. 

Mrs. Herbert had. not sat idly in her little sky 
parlor in Bank street. She had often been 
complimented on the taste with which she 
could make up caps and head-dresses, and she 
determined to turn this talent to account, if 
possible. After several applications, she found 
a milliner willing to employ her, and to allow 
her to do the work at home and send it to her. 
She did not make a great deal of money in this 
way, hut it enabled her to pay the wages of a 
good, stout girl, who was able to do the harder 
work of her family, work for which Mrs. Herbert 
was herself wholly unfit. Thus four years passed 
away. Charlie, now a manly youth of fourteen, 
was in the Free Academy, exerting himself, as 
his mother sometimes feared, almost too much 


20 


EMILY HERBERT* 


in his studies. He had ceased to think much 
of their altered circumstances, and never mourn- 
ed over them except when his mother looked 
pale and wearied, or when he found her sitting 
up late at night to finish caps ordered in a 
hurry. Then he would kiss her tenderly, and 
saying, When I am rich you shall not do so, 
mamma,^^ hurry with new determination to his 
lessons. Though a little weary sometimes, 
Mrs. Herbert would have been very happy in 
her humble home, hut for the anxiety about 
her little Emily. At nine years old she was 
quite tall, and forced her mother to think about 
her education. She seemed to have very good 
talents, and Mrs. Herbert said to herself, If I 
could only give her a good education, I should 
have no fears for her, she could support herself 
by teaching, and then she could educate Carrie, 
and so both could he provided for — hut — ” and 
there the lonely widow would pause, for her 
thoughts would become too painful to he put 
into language. To send Emily to a good school 
for young ladies would cost at least one hundred 
dollars, and save as she would, and work as she 


EMILY HERBERT. 


21 


would, she could never lay by even the half of 
this. And the free school — could she hear to 
send her delicate, gentle Emily there, to meet 
all the rudeness and the roughness which had 
made Charles so very unhappy? Once she 
spoke of her anxieties to Charles, and he said. 
Oh, mother ! do not think of the free school 
for Emily ; it is a capital thing for a boy — ^but, 
think how bad it would be if she should grow 
rude and coarse.” 

But what shall I do, Charles ? Emily 
will have to support herself. She could do 
this, if she were well educated, by teaching 
others. I was too imperfectly taught myself 
to fit her for this. What shall I do ? ” 

Let me teach Em, mother.” 

My dear boy ! where is your time for do- 
ing it ?” 

^^In the evening — I can teach her for an 
hour after tea before I go to my own lessons.” 

Mrs. Herbert feared it would be too much 
for Charlie, yet something must be done, and 
she consented that he should try his plan. So 
Emily was called, and came bounding to her 


22 


EMILY HERBEKT. 


mother from the next room in which she was 
helping Carrie to dress her doll, and, the hooks 
being produced, the lessons were marked out 
for the evening. 

At six o^clock, which was an hour earlier 
than usual, Mrs. Herbert and her children 
gathered around their tea-table, and instead of 
lingering there to chat as she was accustomed 
to do with Charlie, as soon as the last cup of 
tea had been poured out, she called Bridget, 
the servant, to remove the tray, placed lights 
and the books upon the table, and led little 
Carrie off to bed, leaving the young instructor 
and his pupil to their labors. Emily had a 
quick, active mind, and was really desirous to 
learn, so that for an hour she read, and cipher- 
ed, and listened to her brother's explanations 
of the few questions she had learned for him in 
Peter Parley's Geography, without feeling very 
sleepy ; but then the little eyes grew heavy, and 
her short lesson in grammar had to be left for 
another time. Emily received a kiss, and an 
assurance that she had been a good child, and 
scampered off to bed, as happy as she could be ; 


EMILY HEEBERT. 


23 


but Charlie’s labors were but begun, and some- 
how he found that his own tasks for the mor- 
row, were not quite so easily mastered as when 
he went to them fresh from his long afternoon 
walk, and his pleasant tea-table chat with his 
mother. He had to go over and over his pro- 
positions in Euclid before he understood them, 
and it seemed to him that he had hit on a 
particularly hard passage in Homer. The 
church clock near them was striking twelve 
when Mrs. Herbert, waking from her first sound 
sleep, found by the bright light beneath the 
door that separated her room from his, that 
Charlie was still up. Slipping softly out of 
bed, she stole to his door, and opening it 
cautiously, found him still bending over his 
books. 

My dear Charlie ! this will never do,” she 
cried, ^^such constant application will make 
you ill.” 

I am going to bed now, mother,” he re- 
plied, pushing his books from him as he spoke, 
and rising from the table. I had no idea it 
was so late till I heard the clock strike. I 


24 EMILY HERBERT.' 

ought to have been in bed long ago, but I have 
been intolerably stupid this evening I believe 
it was because my head ached a little. Kiss 
me on my forehead, mother, that may make me 
weU.^^ 

Mrs. Herbert kissed it, and bathed it with 
cold water, and Charlie declared the pain was 
all gone, and went to bed with no other burden 
on his mind than the fear that his lessons were 
not quite so well learned as usual. This was 
in October, and when the Christmas holidays 
came, Mrs. Herbert was glad of the little rest 
Vv'hich it gave her boy, who had begun to look 
pale and thin. We have said that Emily had 
a quick mind — she learned so rapidly that soon 
it required two hours to hear her recite her les- 
sons, and Charlie found himself obliged to give 
up his afternoon walk. Before spring had fully 
Coine, he was suffering from incessant head- 
aches, and one of the professors of the Free 
Academy, a judicious, kind-hearted man, had 
advised Mrs. Herbert to take him for a while 
from his studies. 

“He applies himself too constantly, and 


EMILY HERBERT. 


25 


does not take eX:ercise enough/' said this good 
man, and the mother's heart smote her, as she 
remembered that in her anxiety for Emily, she 
had permitted Charlie to give up his afternoon 
to her lessons. She determined that this should 
not he again, and after dinner on this very day, 
when Charlie called Emily to bring her hooks, 
she said, Not to-day, Charlie — you shall both 
have holiday to-day ; and after this, Emily 
must he contented with me as a teacher. 
Your afternoons must he given to exercise as 
they formerly were." 

Charlie's pale cheek flushed, for it was 
very pleasant thought that he might once more 
run out into the fresh air, and rest for a little 
while from his hooks. Not that Charlie did 
not love his hooks — in truth, he loved them 
dearly, far better than his play ; — ^hut he had 
felt the truth of the old couplet, 

“ All work and no play 
Makes Jack a dull boy.” 

Notwithstanding his pleasure, however, he 
stopped to say, But, mother, how can you 
2 


26 


EMILY HERBERT. 


teach Emily, and sew for us all, and make caps 
for Miss Dyce too ? ” 

You know, my dear Charlie, the homely 
old proverb, ‘ God takes care of those who take 
care of themselves.' We will do the best we 
can, and then, perhaps, our Heavenly Father 
will show us some better way." 

But is not my teaching Emily the best 
we can do ? " asked Charlie. 

No, my son ; important as are Emily's 
lessons, your studies and your health are both 
more important — you are to make our fortune, 
you know," she added playfully, ^‘and these 
cheeks," kissing them as she spoke, are paler 
and thinner than they ought to be at fourteen." 

But your face, too, dear mother, is paler 
than it used to be." 

“Not with work, my son ; and, indeed, it 
will add little to my cares to hear Emily recite 
her lessons ; the only thing I regret is, that 
there are some things I wish her to learn, which 
I cannot teach her. But we will not grieve 
about that, if it is best that she should learn 
them, a way will be opened." 


EMILY HERBERT. 


27 


Emily's lessons with her mother had con- 
tinued hut a few weeks, when Miss Sally Dun- 
can came up one morning, with the daily pa- 
per, which she and her sister took. 

Look here, Mrs. Herbert," she cried, 
“isn't this your name?" She pointed to 
“ Mrs. Charles Herbert," in a long list of the 
names of persons having letters remaining in 
the post-office. 

“It is certainly my name," said Mrs. Her- 
bert, “ and I will send my son to see about it 
this afternoon, though there may be other Mrs. 
Charles Herberts in this great city." 

“ Now, you see," exclaimed Miss Sally, 
“that's the good of reading every word of a 
newspaper. Now, sister often says to me, 
^ What are you a reading all them names for ? 
I am sure you don't expect no letter,' — ^but I 
say, when you pay for a newspaper, get all you 
can out of it, and as to expecting a letter, 
there's no telling what may turn up." 

The letter proved a very important one to 
Mrs. Herbert. It was from her mother's only 
brother, Mr. Eichardson, who had gone out to 


28 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Caafcon when lie was but a wild, wayward boy, 
and bad been beard from only twice in tbe tbir- 
ty-five years that bad passed since. Tbe let- 
ter was as follows : 


Hong Kong, May 12th, 1847. 

My Dear Niece : — I do not know whether 
you will recollect that you have an uncle Tom ; 
but I have not forgotten tbe bttle three-year- 
old child, that put her arms round my neck, 
and kissed me tbe morning I left my poor sis- 
ter, tbe only thing I bad left to love me, and 
came off to Canton — a sailor before tbe mast 
— ^in search of money and adventure. Adven- 
ture enough I have had, but money I found 
harder to get — though I am now doing very 
well, and think in a few years I may come back 
with enough for comfort. I was going to send 
you a shawl, and some other things, as tokens 
of my affection for you, when I heard from 

0 & Co.'s agent here, through whom I 

have been accustomed to hear occasionally about 
your husband, that he was dead, and that you 
had sold out your fm’niture, and moved away 


EMILY HERBERT. 


29 


from your former home. So I think that per- 
haps you would rather have money than hand- 
some shawls and playthings, and I have paid 
into the aforesaid agent's hands twenty-five 
hundred dollars, to he remitted to the firm in 
New York, from whom you will receive it on 
presenting this letter from 

Your affectionate uncle, 

Thomas Eichardson." 

Mrs. Herbert's first thought was one of 
gratitude to her Heavenly Father — the next 
was how she could dispose of this sum to the 
most advantage for her children. On this sub- 
ject, she consulted the benevolent merchant 
through whom the money had been sent to her, 
and he offered to give her seven per cent, in- 
terest on it as long as she chose to leave it in 
his hands, adding that she would probably one 
day need the principal to establish her son in 
business. If you will take a slate and pencil, 
you will soon find that the yearly interest on 
two thousand five hundred dollars, at seven per 
cent., will be one hundred and seventy-five dol- 


30 


EMILY HERBERT. 


lars, and this sum Mrs. Herbert determined 
to expend on the education of her daughter. 
She knew that for one hundred dollars a year, 
she might become a day pupil in the admirable 
school of Mrs. Wilmot, and the remaining sev- 
enty-five dollars she would expend in giving 
her lessons in music, for which Emily had a 
decided talent. There was, indeed, a bar to 
this in the difficulty of procuring an instru- 
ment for her to practice upon, but Miss Dun- 
can obviated this, by saying that Miss Emily 
might play on her piano and welcome — it 'would 
make the house more cheerful-like — ^if she 
would promise not to make a litter 'with her 
music.^^ And so began the education of Emily 
Herbert, of which we 'will tell you more in the 
next chapter. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


31 


CHAPTEK lY. 

Mrs. WiLuroT's scliool liad been long establish- 
ed in New York. Conscientiously had this ad- 
mirable lady devoted herself to the business of 
training the hearts and minds of those commit- 
ted to her charge. With the most thorough 
cultivation of intellect, which it was possible 
for her to obtain for her pupils from the best 
masters, she endeavored to combine those 
lighter accomplishments which lend a grace to 
wisdom. But her most ardent desire was to 
lead the young heart to consecrate all its na- 
tive ardor, and its acquired graces, to Him who 
justly claims its homage. The excellence of 
her course of instruction, caused her school to 
be sought by many parents who were incapable 
of appreciating her high motives, or sympathiz- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


32 

ing with her most earnest desires, in relation 
to their children. In short, her school became 
the fashion, and was chosen, therefore, by those 
who were, or who would be thought, fashiona- 
ble. It will readily be believed that Mrs. Her- 
bert did not seek it for tliis reason. She knew 
Mrs. Wilmot as an earnest Christian woman, 
and coveted her influence, as such, upon her 
child — ^believing, we think truly, that no teach- 
ing could be thorough, which did not lead 
from Nature up to Nature's God." 

Emily had accompanied her mother when 
she went to engage a place for her at the 
school, through which they passed, at Mrs. Wil- 
mot's invitation. It was Emily's first visit to 
a young ladies' school, and while her mother 
was observing with interest the intelligent and 
attentive faces around her, she was attracted 
by what seemed to her the rich and costly 
dresses. ^^I wonder what they can wear to 
parties," said Emily to herself, as her eyes 
glanced admiringly from rings and bracelets to 
the jewelled drops depending from the ears. 

Mother, what shall I wear to school to- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


33 


morrow 7 ” asked Emily, as she sat at the tea- 
tahle with her mother, and brother and little 
Carrie, the evening before this great epoch in 
her life. 

^^Wear?'^ exclaimed Mrs, Herbert, with 
some surprise, you have a clean gingham 
dress — ^you will wear that of course.” 

Emily's countenance fell a little, a very lit- 
tle — she had one white dress, and a pretty pink 
muslin — worn hitherto only on Sundays — she 
had hoped to make her first appearance at 
school in one of these. 

But mother, my gingham dresses are all 
made with a gingham frill around the neck, 
and aU the girls at Mrs. Wilmot's have white 
collars and cuffs.” 

And suppose they have, Emily — you have 
not — hut you can study without them, I hope. 
Many of the young ladies at Mrs. Wilmot's have 
very wealthy parents, who can afford to dress 
them handsomely — your mother, my child, can 
only give you a gingham dress, hut she prom- 
ises you it shall always be clean and whole,” 
and Mrs. Herbert put her hand softly on Emi- 


34 


EMILY HERBERT. 


ly^s curly head, as if by that affectionate caress 
she would make amends to her for the want of 
fine clothes. And Emily drew her mother’s 
hand down and kissed it, and thought to her- 
self, Whatever else I may want, I certainly 
have the dearest mother in the world,” and the 
subject of her dress was not mentioned again, 
— indeed, Emily did not think of it again — hut 
Charlie did. 

For the first time in his life, Charlie was 
the possessor of more than a dollar in money. 
He might well call this his own, for it had been 
made by his own labor. Faithful as Charlie 
was to his studies, he had always, except dur- 
ing the few months he taught Emily, found 
time to perform for Miss Duncan, all those 
household ofidces for which ‘‘a, hoy” is found 
indispensable. He offered these services as a 
free gift, hut Miss Duncan was a very just wo- 
man, and she said, Ho, no. Master Charlie — 
it will be a great save of time and trouble to 
me, if you will shovel the snow and bring up 
the wood, and go on an errand now and then 
for me, instead of my having to go to the gro- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


35 


cer’s or tlie butcher's to bunt up a boy, and 
then wait two or three days before I can get 
my chores done ; — ^but if you do the work, you 
must have the pay — that's only fair, and I al- 
ways do what's fair." And so Charlie took the 
money, carrying, with a pride and pleasure he 
had never known before, all his little gains to 
his mother. Since Mrs. Herbert had restored 
his freedom, by teaching Emily herself, he had 
returned to his old engagement with Miss Dun- 
can, but, at his mother's own suggestion, the 
money he received was retained by him to pur- 
chase such books as he wished. And now the 
sum thus acquired amounted, as we have said, 
to a little more than a dollar. They had been 
the earnings of weeks — soon, very soon, he 
would add the few shillings that were wanting, 
to make him the happy possessor of a Kobinson 
Crusoe — a few loose leaves of which, he had 
once picked up in the street and read with de- 
light, and which he had ever since coveted 
more than any other earthly possession. 

And now Charlie thought of his treasure, 
and wondered if it would buy Emily the collar 


36 


EMILY HERBERT. 


and cuffs she wanted, and whether that would 
not he better than even a Kohinson Crusoe. 

Besides, I shall make more money one of 
these days, and then the Kohinson Crusoe will 
come — unless I should he wanting school-books,” 
he added, with a little sigh. 

The result of Charlie's little debate with 
liimself was, that soon after tea, just as the 
lamps in the street were being lit, he walked 
into a fancy store in the upper part of Broadr- 
way, at whose windows he remembered to have 
seen collars exhibited, and inquired for a collar 
and cuffs suitable for a little girl of ten years 
old. 

Do you want very handsome ones, sir, or 
will plain ones do ? ” asked the very civil young 
girl who waited on him. 

I want what will be neat and pretty for 
her to wear to school,” answered Charlie. 

Oh ! then I have the very things for you, 
these nice linen collars and cuffs, and they are 
cheap ; only fifty cents a set.” 

Charlie's cheek fiushed with pleasure ; for 
his dollar he could have two sets, and so the 


EMILY HERBERT. 


37 


great difficulty which had perplexed him, of 
what would Emily do when his present should 
he soiled, would he solved. Charlie, leaving 
his dollar behind him, soon bore away instead 
the little white paper parcel that contained his 
purchase, and when he saw Emily^s delight, as 
he displayed it to her, and received his mother's 
kiss, and heard her exclamation of My gen- 
erous Charlie ! " he said to himself, This is 
better than Kobinson Crusoe." 

Nor was Charlie's satisfaction less, when he 
saw his little sister, the next morning, looking 
with such evident pleasure in the little looking- 
glass over her mother's bureau, at the reflection 
of herself in her clean gingham dress, from the 
neck of which the frill had been ripped, and her 
dazzlingly white and perfectly smooth little col- 
lar and cuffs. He certainly thought Emily pret- 
tier than she had ever been before, and in his 
anxiety that she should be seen to the utmost 
advantage by her schoolmates, he almost scold- 
ed Carrie for putting her arms around her neck, 
as she gave her her parting kiss. He was to 
leave Emily at Mrs. Wilmot's door, on his way 


38 


EMILY HERBERT. 


to the Free Academy, and he felt no little 
pride, as, taking her satchel on his arm, he 
walked beside her to the street in which Mrs. 
Wilmot lived. They had reached the steps, 
and Charles had delivered the satchel to his 
sister, and was turning away with a cheerful 
Good-by,"' when a very handsome carriage, 
drawn by a pair of sleek-looking bay horses, 
with a coachman and footman in livery, dashed 
up to the door. Charles glanced/ at it for a 
moment, and went on his way ; Emily gazed 
with astonishment on tokens of grandeur she 
had never seen before, till the footman descend- 
ing from his lofty position, received his mis- 
tress's commands at the window, and, passing 
her, sprang up the steps before her, and rang 
the bell. Then he ran down the steps and 
flung open the carriage-door, before Mrs. Wil- 
mot's door was opened, and Emily saw a young 
girl, apparently about her own age, , step out, 
and a stately-looking lady follow her. Emi- 
ly asked timidly where she should find Mrs. 
Wilmot. Timidly as she spolm, her voice 
reached that kind lady herself, as she was pass- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


39 


ing through the entrance-hall, and she came 
forward to receive her, and leading her to the 
farther end of the hall, she showed her where 
her hoinet and shawl must he hung, and then 
accompanied her to the school-room, and giving 
her a seat, told her she would he with her again 
in a few lainutes, and left her. 

While Emily was still in the hall, the 
stately ladj entered, and sweeping by the ser- 
vant towards the parlor, announced in a haughty 
voice, Mrs and Miss Day ; "" she was followed 
by the little dressed in the most exquisite 
of French miehns, trimmed around the sleeves 
and neck witi a Valenciennes edging, which 
also surrounded the pretty white muslin sack 
which covered her otherwise hare shoulders. 
This Emily migit have seen in the hall, hut it 
was only when Mrs. Wilmot, conducting the 
young girl to the school-room, gave her a seat 
beside her, aBd introduced her to her as Miss 
Juha Day, thit she observed the diamond ring 
that sparkled ^n her finger, or the gold brace- 
lets that clasptd her wrists. 

We are afaid Emily was scarcely wise 


40 


EMILY HERBERT. 


enough not to feel a little humbled by /the 
contrast which this young lady’s dress pr^ent- 
ed to her own, — and yet in truth hers w/s the 
more becoming to her age, and impressed every 
person of sense more agreeably. / 

The hours before noon passed away not un- 
pleasantly to Emily, during which sheand Miss 
Day had been examined, and their Audies as- 
signed them. A little to the surprise of Emily, 
although Miss Day was a year old^, and con- 
siderably taller than herself, their Mudies and 
their classes were the same. They were to re- 
tain the seats given them at fiyst ; And I 
hope, my dears, as you sit togyrher, you will 
each take an interest in the oth^, and each try 
to exercise a good influence on^he other,” said 
the good Mrs. Wilmot ; “for you know,” she 
added, as she saw something of hjiughty indif- 
ference in Miss Day’s countenancj, “ no human 
being can come so near another without influ- 
encing them for good or for evil, frou will cer- 
tainly each make the other more/or less amia- 
ble, more or less faithful to jow duties here, 
and more or less happy accordijg as you shall 
act yourself” / 


EMILY HERBERT. 


41 


At twelve o’clock a recess, as it was called, 
or cessation of study for fifteen minutes was al- 
lowed, during which a multitude of little bas- 
kets appeared, from which each young lady pro- 
duced the cake, or fruit, or plain bread and but- 
ter prepared at home for her luncheon. Emily’s 
basket held a nice roll and a single peach — it 
was now the first of September, a season at 
which peaches are abundant and therefore cheap 
in New York, — ^in Miss Day’s was a hunch of 
rare hot-house grapes and a slice of rich cake. 
Before these delicacies could be withdrawn from 
their hiding-place in a snowy damask napkin, 
Mrs. Wilmot was beside the new comers to in- 
quire, “ Have you any acquaintances here?” 

‘‘No, ma’am,” said Emily timidly. 

“ Oh yes, ma’am,” exclaimed Miss Day, 
with animation, “I know the Van Euysdaels 
and the Livermores, and — ” she was going on 
with a list of all the names of any fashion in 
the school — but Mrs. Wilmot interrupted her. 

“ That will do, my dear,” said Mrs. Wilmot 
quietly. “ Here are Miss Livermore and Miss 
Van Kuysdael waiting for you : — I will find an 


42 


EMILY HERBERT. 


acquaintance for you, my child, she added, 
turning with a pleasant smile to Emily, as Miss 
J ulia was led off by her young friends, followed 
by many of their associates. Looking for a mo- 
ment inquiringly around her, Mrs. Wilmot 
called Clara Layton,'" and a young girl, two 
or three years older than Emily, dressed almost 
as plainly as she was herself, though in richer 
materials, approached. There was something 
in the thoughtful, dark eyes of Clara Layton 
which pleased Emily at the first glance ; and 
when in answer to Mrs. Wilmot 's introduction, 
she said, in a pleasant, cheerful voice, Shall 
we take our luncheon together here, or will you 
come with me to my cosy corner?" Emily's 
loving, child heart was won, and she followed 
her to the corner with a sparkle in her blue 
eyes, and a thought in her heart of gratitude 
to Mrs. Wilmot for such a friend. For a little 
while Clara and Emily talked of their lessons, 
then, after a little pause, Emily asked : Do 
you know Miss Julia Day?" 

No, she has only come to-day." 

“ How beautifully she dresses ! " 


EMILY HERBERT. 


43 


Does she ? asked Clara, looking around 
for the person of whom they were speaking ; I 
have not observed her.'’' 

Emily's cheeks grew red ; she remembered 
that her mother had told her it was not pohte 
to observe too closely the dresses of others, and 
fearful that she would lose the good opinion of 
her new friend, she said softly ; Maybe I ought 
not to have talked of her dress, hut she sat 
next to me, you know, and she had such a 
sparkling ring and such beautiful bracelets, that 
I could not help seeing them." 

That is one reason why my mother will 
not let me wear such things to school ; she says 
the girls would he looking at, and thinking of 
them instead of their lessons. Besides, she 
does not think them suitable or becoming to 
little girls. You don't wear them, I see, so I 
suppose your mother agrees with her," said 
Clara. 

I have not any to wear," answered Emily, 
almost in a whisper, feeling, we are afraid, a 
little ashamed of the acknowledgment. 

Perhaps Clara understood the feeling, and 


44 


EMILY HERBERT. 


wanted to relieve it, when she bent over her 
friend^s little hand and said, You have a 
pretty pair of cuffs on, that double row of knots 
looks so neat ; they are the prettiest linen cuffs 
I have ever seen."^ 

‘‘Do you think so?'' asked the delighted 
Emily. “ Charlie gave them to me." 

“ Charlie ! who is he?" asked Clara. 

“Oh 1 I forgot you did not know him ; he 
is my brother." 

Here the bell rang to recall the young ladies 
to their seats, and Emily reluctantly left the 
friendly Clara to place herself again beside Miss 
Day. As soon as order was restored, Mrs. 
Wilmot drew near with paper and pens, to ask 
that Emily Herbert and Juba Day should each 
write her a note, that she might see how they 
could write and spell. 

“ One inkstand will serve you both said 
Mrs. Wilmot, as she placed one f\ill of ink on 
that end of Emily's desk which was nearest to 
Julia. 

For a few minutes both girls were very still. 
They were thinking how they should begin 


EMILY HERBERT. 


45 


their formidable task. Then Emily began to 
write, while Miss Julia still continued to gnaw 
the end of her cedar pen-holder ; suddenly, just 
as Emily paused to glance over the two lines 
she had written, and see that no word was mis- 
spelt, Julia dashed her pen into the inkstand, 
then, with an impatient flirt, threw out of it the 
superfluity of ink she had taken up, and turned 
to her paper unheeding the mischief she had done. 

Oh, Miss Day ! see what you have done ! ” 
cried our poor Emily, in a voice that showed 
she was scarcely able to refrain from weeping. 

Well, what asked Julia, as she glanced 
carelessly up at Emily's extended hand, with 
its pretty cuff, bearing a great ink spot on its 
pure whiteness. 

Had Julia only looked sorry, Emily would 
have hushed all her own grief, lest it should 
ha 70 distressed her, hut with an indifferent 
smile, she said ; Well, that is no such terri- 
ble thing, it is only a linen cuff," and turned 
again to her note. Emily hurst into tears. 

Why, I never heard of any thing so mean ; 
I declare I couldn't have believed it ; crying 


46 


EMILY HERBERT. 


for a linen cuff ! Do hush ! if you will not tell 
Mrs. Wilmot, and make her scold me, I will 
ask my mamma to give me a dozen pairs for 
you. I will bring them to you to-morrow.'^ 

I don't want them," sobbed Emily ; “ if 
you had a thousand linen cuffs, I wouldn't take 
one." 

Silence ! " cried Mrs. Wilmot from the 
next room, and in a moment more she stood 
beside the girls. Miss Julia Day hung her 
head over the note, of which only “ New York" 
was written, and Emily tried in vain to hush 
the sobs, which sounded all the louder for the 
effort to restrain them. 

What is the matter, my dear ? why do 
you weep ? " asked Mrs. Wilmot, bending her 
head down to Emily. ^‘Ah ! you have inked 
your cuff, I see, it was carelessly done, hut cry- 
ing will not mend it." 

Poor Emily ! she was to he blamed for 
carelessness too, unless she should tell upon Miss 
Day, a thing which was too near tale-bearing 
to he pleasant to her. Fortunately, the whole 
transaction had been witnessed by a little girl 


EMILY HERBERT. 


47 


who was waiting to show her copy to Mrs. Wil- 
mot, and with generous indignation at the 
silence of Miss Day when she heard Emily 
blamed, she exclaimed, She did not ink it 
herself, ma^am. Miss Day inked it.” 

And did not tell me of it ! ” cried Mrs. 
Wilmot, turning with graver displeasure in her 
glance to Julia Day. 

Dm sure I am very sorry, ma'am,” said 
this young lady ; hut I did all I could ; I 
offered to bring Miss Herbert a dozen pairs to- 
morrow, if she would not cry for that one.” 

Mrs. Wilmot saw the pride there was in 
this offer, and she said, A dozen will not he 
needed, my dear, hut you will oblige me by 
bringing one pair as much as possible like these, 
as it is only just that you should replace what 
your carelessness has destroyed.” 

Please ma'am not to make her bring it,” 
said Emily, still sohbingly ; I did not care so 
much, so very much, I mean, as to cry for the 
cuff ; it was because Charlie gave it to me, my 
brother Charlie, with his own money that he 
worked for himself.” 


48 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Mrs. Wilmot parted the hair from the hot 
brow, and kissed the quivering lips of the child, 
and said, You axe right, my child, to value 
such a gift, and it would he indeed impossible 
for Miss Day to restore it ; so we will not 
trouble you to bring any. Miss Day. But come, 
I think I must find you a more careful compan- 
ion ; Miss Day had better sit alone till she learns 
not to scatter ink about her.’' 

Mrs. Wilmot led Emily, already comforted 
by her kindness, to the next room, and to the 
very corner where Clara Layton sat, and placed 
her beside the friend she already loved. Nor 
was this all the comfort Emily received from 
her kind instructress, for when the school was 
dismissed and she was about to make her part- 
ing courtesy, Mrs. Wilmot stopped her, and lead- 
ing her to her library, drew her affectionately 
to her side, and asked her to tell her all about 
that good brother Charlie ; and when she had 
heard all that Emily had to tell, even to the 
sacrifice of the coveted Kobinson Crusoe, she 
praised him till Emily’s cheeks glowed vrith 
pleasure, and added, You were quite right, 


EMILY HERBERT. 


49 


no cuff could be like tliis one, but I want you 
to take this book home with you, it is a little 
present from me, but you may give it to Char- 
lie, if you like."' 

Emily looked at it — it was Kobinson Crusoe, 
and in a burst of delight, forgetting her awe of 
Mrs. Wilmot, she cried ; am so glad, I am 
so glad ; oh, ma'am, you are too good." 

Miss Julia Day had been greatly astonished 
to find that Mrs. Wilmot had been in no degree 
more kind or attentive to her, the daughter of 
the rich banker, and of the fashionable Mrs. 
Day, who rode in the most expensive carriage, 
and gave the most magnificent parties in New 
York, than she was to a little girl whose 
brother had been obliged to work for the money 
to buy her a pair of linen cuffs ; it was astonish- 
ing, it was positively stupefying, and she longed 
for the ‘hour of dismission, that she might con- 
sult some of her friends, who, having been 
longer at the school, could probably throw a lit- 
tle light upon the darkness of her mind. Ac- 
cordingly, when Emily was returning home she 
found a coterie of school girls assembled just 
4 


50 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


out of sight of Mrs. Wilmot's door, debating 
the propriety of her acts on this day. At a 
single glance, she saw Miss Day with her friends. 
Miss Livermore, and Miss Van Kuysdael. They 
were surrounded by others whose names she did 
not know, forming in all, a company of ten or 
twelve. Their voices were quite raised in the 
eagerness with which they spoke, and she could 
not help hearing ; I am sure if she had 
broken my bracelet, I should not have cried 
about it ; and then to tell Mrs. Wilmot, I do 
think it was mean, and all I wonder at is that 
Mrs. Wilmot did not tell her so."' 

But she did not tell Mrs. Wilmot,^^ said a 
childish voice ; little children are generally just, 
and this was said by a very little girl. She 
was waiting for her elder sister, who was one of 
Miss Day's counsellors, and who now checked 
her with, “ Hush, Lucy ! what do you know 
about it ? Miss Day must know best, and she 
says she did tell her." 

At this moment, our little Emily was seen 
by the group, as she stood irresolutely, her 
cheeks burning, her knees trembling with min- 


EMILT HERBERT. 


51 


gled emotions of shame and anger at hearing 
herself and her actions thus misrepresented. 
A general ^‘hush — sh — sh/' sounded like the 
hissing of serpents in Emily's ears, accompa- 
nied by a ruder, ‘^yes, hush, or we'll he told 
upon," from one girl, coarser than her compan- 
ions. Emily's cheeks grew brighter, an indig- 
nant remonstrance was on her lips, and she had 
already advanced one step towards the group, 
when a soft hand was laid upon her arm, and 
looldng up, she met the gentle eyes of Clara 
Layton. 

“ Come with me," said Clara, I have been 
waiting for you on the other side of the street." 
Just let me tell those young ladies that — " 
Better not tell them any thing. Mrs. 
Wilmot does not like us to stand in the street 
in that way, and I am sure you wiU not do what 
Mrs. Wilmot does not like." 

While Clara spoke, she was moving on, and 
Emily, removed from the cause of provocation, 
soon forgot it in the sweet society of her friend, 
and in her delight at the beautiful hook that 
was to make Charlie so happy." 


52 


EMILY HERBERT. 


And happy indeed he was, and happy was 
Mrs. Herbert too, as she saw the affection of 
her children. 

While they love each other, poverty can- 
not make them miserable,^^ she said to herself. 

Mother, are all rich girls as disagreeable 
as Julia Day asked Emily that evening, as 
she was preparing for bed. 

“ I think you can answer your own question, 
my dear, when I tell you that Clara Layton^s 
father is probably a richer man than Mr. Day,"' 
said Mrs. Herbert. 

Is he ? why Clara was almost as plainly 
dressed as I was ; she had not a bit of jewelry 
about her."^ 

She told you, you remember, that her 
mamma did not think it proper that she should 
wear it.^^ 

^^Well, I never shall think much of any 
body that dresses up so very finely. I shall al- 
ways remember Miss Julia Day.” 

Then you will be very unjust, my dear 
Emily. I certainly agree with Mrs. Layton, 
that it is not in good taste for little girls to 


EMILY HERBERT. 


53 


dress very showily ; I even think they look bet- 
ter when their dress is simple ; and she bent 
over Emily and kissed her forehead, smiling as 
she added, and one little girl I know would, I 
fear, become a little vain if she were dressed 
very richly, hut a wiser person would wear the 
fine clothes without thinking of them. If we 
only do rightly, love mercy, and walk humbly 
with God, my darling, it is of little consequence 
what we may wear. Ask your Heavenly Father 
to give you these gracious dispositions, my 
child, and pray, above all, that He would en- 
able you to forgive those who have offended you. 
Kememher, Emily,” she added, as she saw the 
cheek of Emily fiush, only those who forgive 
can hope to he forgiven.” 

Mrs. Herbert spoke with such solemnity 
that Emily was awed, and when after her even- 
ing prayer, she gave her mother her good-night 
kiss, she whispered, I asked God to make me 
forgive Julia Day.” 

God^s blessing rested that night on the 
home of the widow and the fatherless. 


54 


EMILY HERBERT. 


CHAPTEK V. 

The companions of Julia Day, some influenced 
by her misrepresentations, some by her position 
or her finery, — ^for such things are not without 
their influence even on children, — had done all 
in their power to reconcile her to herself, yet 
there was a still, small voice within her, which 
even their flatteries could not altogether over- 
power, wliispering that she was not entirely 
blameless. Had she listened to this voice and 
acknowledged she had done wrong, and asked 
the forgiveness of those she had ofi’ended, what 
sweet peace there would have been in her heart, 
how pleasantly she would have tripped home- 
ward, and with how bright a smile she would 
have met her mamma ! This peaceful, cheer- 
ful spirit is God's blessing on those who do 
rightly. Julia did not enjoy it. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


55 


Those who had looked at Julia Day's home, 
might have thought that she had great reason 
for happiness. Mr. Day's house was one of the 
handsomest in the large city of New York. It 
was built of brown stone ; the rooms were aU 
large ; the windows of the parlors opened down 
to the floor ; the mantel-pieces were of the 
purest white marble, supported on each side by 
beautifully sculptured figures, the chandeliers 
were of or molu, there were pictures in richly 
gilded frames on the walls, and velvet carpets 
on the floors, and inlaid tables and brocade 
covered couches and lounges, chairs and otto- 
mans, scattered through the rooms. It seemed 
as if every thing you could ask for in parlors 
was to be found there. Let us foUow Julia and 
see what her life was in this beautiful home. 

Is mamma at home?" she asked of the 
waiter at the door. 

No, Miss, but I beheve Nancy has a mes- 
sage for you from your mamma." 

Miss JuKe ! Miss Julie!" cried Nancy 
from above, your mamma says you must study 
your lessons for to-morrow." 


56 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Study lessons ! Does mamma think I am 
never to be tired of studying lessons?'' exclaim- 
ed the pert girl. 

Because/' continued Nancy, your mam- 
ma is going to Niblo's this evening, and she 
wants you to he all dressed and ready to go 
with her when she comes home to dinner at 
five o'clock." 

Oh ! going to Nihlo's ; well, here, Nancy, 
just carry my hooks up stairs with you." Nan- 
cy had come down while speaking. I have to 
run over to Laura Yan Kuysdael's and tell her 
why I can't walk with her this afternoon." 

Well, remember. Miss Julia, your mamma 
said you must study your lessons, or your papa 
would not let you go." 

Oh ! I'll remember." 

It was now nearly three o'clock, and Julia 
did not return tiU after four. 

Has mamma come yet ? " was her hurried 
question at the door on her second entrance. 
It was not the question of an affectionate child 
impatient to see her mother, as was proved by 
her exclamation of That's good," when she 
was answered in the negative. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


57 


tell mamma I am in my room, 
studying my lessons/' she added, as she ran 
quickly up stairs. 

A hasty glance at the various lessons given 
her by Mrs. Wilmot to prepare for the next 
day, taken while Nancy arranged her hair and 
prepared her evening dress, was all that Julia 
could do to redeem herself from the mortifying 
consciousness that she had been guilty of a pos- 
itive falsehood in leaving this message. She 
was dressed just in time for dinner. Her 
father and mother were seated at the table 
when she descended to the parlor. There were 
no visitors. 

Well, my daughter, how did you like your 
school?" asked Mr. Day. 

I like the school very well," answered 
Julia, with a little sullenness in her tone. 

‘‘You like the school very well," repeated 
Mr. Day, with a very successful imitation of 
Julia's emphasis and manner. “ And what was 
it you did not like? for there was evidently 
something." 

“ I don't like to be scolded for nothing at all." 


58 


EMILY HERBERT. 


And do yon mean to say/" asked Mr. Day, 
^‘that Mrs. Wilmot scolds for nothing?"" 

Mr. Day smiled as he spoke, for he was a 
man of some sense, and was not disposed to 
foster his daughter"s petty resentments. 

“ I don"t call it any great thing to spill a 
single drop of ink out of a pen."" 

That depends on where the ink falls, and 
how it was done,"" said Mr. Day. 

I am sure I could not help it ; I suppose 
my pen was too full, and I just did so,"" shaking 
her fork, and it fell, and the least hit went 
on a giiTs cuff : the cuff was plain linen, not a 
hit better than Nancy wears ; and she cried and 
made such a noise and fuss that it disturbed 
the whole school, and Mrs. Wilmot never scold- 
ed her a word, hut she scolded me and made 
me sit by myself"" 

A pretty teacher she must he, to show 
such partiality !"" said Mrs. Day, somewhat 
sneeringly. It may he that she was not very 
sorry to find some fault in Mrs. Wilmot, for it 
had been Mr. Day"s plan and not hers to send 
J ulia to school, and she had been a little vexed 


EMILY HERBERT. 


59 


in the morning to perceive that she commanded 
less reverence from Mrs. Wilmot than she 
thought was due to her wealth and fashion. 
Whatever was her reason for thus receiving the 
complaints of her child against her teacher, she 
was doing great injustice to both, and render- 
ing it nearly impossible that Mrs. Wilmot 
should ever benefit her young and wayward 
pupil. 

I do not believe in the partiality,” said 
the more clear-sighted, or less prejudiced Mr. 

Day. 

“I think it is very hard my own father 
should not believe me,” muttered the perverse 
Julia ; while her siUy mother added, I think 
so, indeed ! ” 

Provoked almost equally with both, and 
dreading a domestic storm, Mr. Day exclaimed 
hastily, Hush ! you foolish child, eat your 
dinner ; ” but instead of obeying this last com- 
mand, Julia burst into tears, — tears which were 
the result of anger and mortification, and 
springing from the table, rushed to her own 
apartment. 


60 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Do not let me see you again to-night/^ 
cried Mr. Day to her, as she passed him. His 
dinner had been rendered thoroughly uncom- 
fortable, and was eaten in a silence broken only 
by Mrs. Day’s messages to Julia, entreating 
her to come to her dinner ; or, when these failed 
of success, by her orders to the waiter to take 
the dinner to her, and afterwards to carry her 
ice-cream, Charlotte Kusse and fruits. At 
half-past six the stately meal was over, and 
leaving Mr. Day to his wine, Mrs. Day ordered 
coffee and the carriage at seven, and spent the 
intervening half hour in soothing her petted 
daughter, washing away all traces of the tears 
from her cheeks, and smoothing her disordered 
locks. Without seeing her father again, Julia 
sprang with renewed gayety into the carriage 
for Mhlo’s, and returned at eleven o’clock, jad- 
ed and half asleep. Her father was already in 
bed. She did not see him. 

Nancy, remember to wake Miss Julia ear- 
ly ; she must have her breakfast at half-past 
seven to he ready for school,” said Mrs. Day, as 
Nancy was attending Julia to her room. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


61 


“ Oh, mamma ! I think that’s too hard, to 
make me get up so soon ; you know you won’t 
get up early yourself.” 

Go to bed, Julia, and let me hear no more 
of your unreasonable complaints,” said the 
mother, almost as fretful and sleepy as her 
child. And Julia went sulkily to her room, 
hurried off her clothes, and lay down, a prayer- 
less child, upon her unblessed bed. 


62 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


CHAPTEK YI. 

Emily Herbert was a sweet-tempered child. 
She had heard very little quarrelling in her life, 
and though she and Carrie might sometimes have 
a little dissension in their play, when one would 
have the doll wear a blue, and the other, a pink 
dress, they could hardly he said to quarrel, so 
quickly did Emily yield to her little sister, and 
so ready was Carrie to kiss and he friends. In 
truth, the dissension with Miss Julia Day 
might he regarded as Emily's first serious quar- 
rel. She did not like it ; it was so very dis- 
agreeable to think that any body was angry 
with her. So felt Emily, and when her mam- 
ma read a chapter from the Bible with her chil- 
dren in the morning, and she heard those 
words, Be ye kind one to another, tender- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


63 


hearted, forgiving one another, even as God 
for Christ's sake, has forgiven you," her heart 
was melted by their sweetness, and she felt 
that her prayer was answered, and she could 
forgive Julia Day. We are glad to say that 
this feeling was attained before she was in- 
formed by her mother, that she thought the 
ink could be extracted from her cuff by an acid 
so as to leave no stain upon it. 

“ Don't you think Julia Day would like to 
know that, after all, she had not done me any 
great harm ? " asked Emily. 

Perhaps so," said Mrs. Herbert ; “at least, 
it would be kind in you to tell her." 

“And that pretty text said we must be 
kind, and so I will tell her." 

“Perhaps, if you learn that pretty text, 
and repeat it to yourself whenever you are very 
much tempted to be angry to-day, it may help 
you to do right. There is another, too, that I 
would like you to remember." 

“ What is it, mother ? Is it long ?" 

“ No ; it is very short and very easy. It is, 
“ Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil 
with good." 


64 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Oh ! that is easy ; I know it already,” 
and Emily repeated slowly the words just used 
by her mother ; then, after a moment's pause, 
she added, “ But I am not sure that I under- 
stand what that text means.” 

“ I will explain it to you,” said Mrs. Her- 
bert. ‘^Suppose Miss Julia Hay, instead of 
being very glad to hear that she had done you 
no harm, should tell you that she did not care 
about it, and should even laugh at you for 
imagining she did, how would you feel ? ” 

“ I should think her very rude,” and Emi- 
ly's cheeks grew a little red, at the thought of 
such an insult. 

And perhaps you would be angry with her 
again, and so you would let your good be over- 
come of her evil ; while, if you remained kind 
and pleasant to her, there is no doubt, that in 
time your good would overcome her evil, and 
she would become kind and pleasant in turn.” 

Forewarned is forearmed,” says an old 
proverb, and it was well that Mrs. Herbert had 
prepared Emily for the ungracious reception 
which her well-meant information met from 


EMILY HERBERT. 


65 


Miss Day, and her favored associates. She 
met them in the hall, in which the young ladies 
uncloaked themselves and left their bonnets, 
and, though her voice trembled a little, she 
tried to speak cheerfully and in a friendly ac- 
cent, as she gave what she felt ought to be a 
pleasant assurance to Julia Day. The answer 
was : “I am sure I could not have been more 
bothered about it, if I had done you ever so 
much harm/' 

Julia spoke in a haughty tone, and a titter, 
only half suppressed, ran around the circle of 
young ladies in which she stood. In spite of 
all her resolution, we doubt not that some an- 
gry feeling swelled the heart of Emily, and it 
may be, even flashed from her eyes ; but she 
had sufficient self-control to turn away without 
speaking. It was a hard effort, and cost her 
a tear or two, but she wiped them away before 
she entered the school-room, and was able to 
return Clara Layton's pleasant smile of wel- 
come > and when Mrs. Wilmot closed the short 
prayer, which she always made at the opening 
of school, with that beautiful form of words 
5 


66 


EMILY HERBERT. 


given US by our beloved Lord, Emily was able 
to say, Forgive us our trespasses as we for- 
give those who trespass against us,^' without 
any feeling of self-condemnation at her heart. 

It may be supposed that Julia Day did not 
know a great deal of the lessons, at which she 
had only glanced while she was being dressed 
the day before. Emily, on the contrary, had 
studied hers very faithfully, and knew them per- 
fectly. Mrs. Wilmot, on this first day, only 
said to Julia, You must study more, my dear,'' 
and so she said every day for the first week ; but 
when two or three weeks had passed over with 
the same result, she said, If you do not know 
your lesson better to-morrow. Miss Day, you 
must stay after school is dismissed, and study it." 
Tears rushed to Julia's eyes, and, with a falter- 
ing voice she said, ‘‘It is so long, and so hard." 

“ How is it that Miss Emily Herbert, who 
is younger than you are, learns it so well ? " 
asked Mrs. Wilmot. 

Emily sat next to Julia in the class ; she 
saw the tears, she heard a little sob ; her kindly 
feelings were stirred, and she summoned cour- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


67 


age to say to Mrs. Wilmot, My brother helps 
me, ma'am — it were not for that I could not 
always learn it." 

have nobody to help me," said Julia, 
with a desolate feeling at her heart, and some- 
thing like a suspicion stealing over her, that 
she was not, after all, so very much happier 
than Emily Herbert. 

May I help you ?" whispered Emily, very 
softly, I can tell you what my brother tells 
me, you know." 

Julia did not answer ; she tried to whisper 
You are very good," but another little quick 
sob came instead, and she burst into tears. 
She could not, we think, have told herself why 
she wept, but it was probably partly from mor- 
tification about her lesson, and partly from sor- 
row at the remembrance of her unkindness to 
Emily, who was trying now to soothe and com- 
fort her. Mrs. Wilmot took no notice of her 
tears ; she was not sorry to see them, for she 
said to herself, She is not without feeling, I 
hope, though the indulgence of a foolish mother 
.has made her vain and selfish." 


68 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Emily almost cried herself, as she saw Ju- 
lia's ungoverned emotion, and laying her hand 
softly on hers, she kept it there till the class 
was dismissed, and then, after they had left 
Mrs. Wilmot's presence, she said, Don't cry ; 
let me help you just as Charlie helps me, 
and you will see how easy it is. Mrs. Wilmot 
will let us study together, I dare say, if I ask 
her. May I ? May I tell her you would like 
it?" 

Yes, if you please," faltered Julia. 

Emily waited till recess to present her 
request to Mrs. Wilmot, who, having listened 
quietly, answered, I have no objection, if you 
are willing to give up your seat by Clara Lay- 
ton, and return to one by Miss Day." 

Emily hesitated. Must I give up Clara, 
ma'am? She is so good, and I love her so 
much." 

‘‘You may do as you please ; you cannot 
sit in both seats, neither can I allow you to 
leave your place even for so kind a purpose as 
to assist Miss Day ; such a habit in a school 
would he subversive of all order ; but I have 


EMILY HERBERT. 


69 


no doubt you will do Miss Day an essential ser- 
vice, if you are willing to sacrifice your own 
pleasure to her profit, and leaving your friend 
Clara, to sit beside her, and show her how to 
study.'" 

Emily's lips parted to say she would accept 
Mrs. Wilmot's terms, and take her first seat 
by Julia Day ; but just then Clara's pleasant 
smile seemed to beam before her, and she saw, 
as if compressed into an instant of time, all the 
little aids she had given her in these few days, 
all the times, in which, without saying a word, 
or infringing a rule, she had placed before her 
the very book, sometimes the very sentence she 
needed to help her out of a difficulty in her 
studies, or, by placing her finger on her smiling 
lips, had checked the words she was about to 
utter, and so saved her from violating the rules 
of the school ; and, overpowered by the thought 
of all she was relinquishing, again Emily hung 
her head, and was silent. 

“ Talk with Clara Layton about it, my 
dear, and if you decide to make the change, 
just take your seat, after recess, by Miss Day ; 


70 


EMILY HERBERT. 


only remember you go there to be of service to 
her, and be careful that your good is not over- 
come of her evil.^^ 

Emily understood what that meant, and 
the bright, intelligent smile with which she 
glanced at Mrs. Wilmot, told her that she did. 
When Emily returned to her place, she found 
Clara with her luncheon spread before her, but 
waiting her arrival to eat it. She had a re- 
markably fine bunch of the common Isabel 
grape, and, as Emily approached, she ex- 
claimed, I am so glad you have come ; I was 
so afraid you would not be in time to eat the 
grapes I brought for you. They grew on my 
own grape vine ; I planted it in the yard when 
I was a little thing, and now it covers half the 
piazza of our house.” 

Clara divided the bunch of grapes as she 
spoke, and placed the one-half on Emily's desk. 

Oh, Clara !” cried Emily, ‘‘I shall be so 
sorry to leave you ; and yet I think — I am 
afraid, I ought to go and sit by poor Julia 
Day.” 

Poor Julia Day ! ” ejaculated Clara, I 


EMILY HERBERT. 


71 


have an idea she would hardly thank you for 
calling her poor.” 

I know she is very rich, and has a great 
many fine things ; more I suppose than I shall 
ever see in all my life.” 

Miss Herbert, I have brought you some 
grapes,” — Emily looked up in surprise. The 
speaker was Julia Day. She held in her hand 
a hunch of the rare and delicious grape called 
the 'black Hamburgh. They made Clara's 
grapes look small. 

Thank you. Miss Day ; hut Clara has 
brought me some grapes,” said Emily, as 
quietly as if she had seen and eaten black 
Hamburgh grapes all her life, though in truth, 
these were the first of the kind she ever looked 
upon. 

But these are hot-house grapes ; taste 
them ; see how much better they are,” 

Thank you — I like Clara's very much, and 
I cannot eat both,” said Emily, and Julia Day 
turned away more puzzled than ever to account 
for Emily's kindness to her in the class, the only 
possible reason that had suggested itself to her, 


72 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


being, that she probably wished to win her favor 
that she might share in the advantages her 
wealth conferred, among which Julia reckoned 
the gratification of appetite, as by no means the 
smallest. As she now turned away with her 
grapes, a little mortified at their rejection, 
Clara looked with a meaning smile to Emily, 
— ^those costly grapes seemed such a comment 
on the poor Miss Day. 

call her poor in spite of such things,^' 
said Emily, answering the smile. “ Do you 
think I would give my brother Charlie for all 
she has ? — and she has no brother, and she cried 
in the class to-day, and said she had no one to 
help her with her lessons — ^is not that sad ? and 
so I asked Mrs. Wilmot to let me help her, and 
she said I might if I would sit by her, and then 
you know I must leave you, and I am afraid I 
ought to do it. What do you think, Clara 
Unconsciously, Emily was putting Clara^s 
sincerity and worth, as a friend, to the greatest 
possible test. Eemember this, my young 
friends, and if you would try a friend's truth 
and excellence, submit to their decision some 


EMILY HERBERT. 


73 


question of conduct in whicli your feelings and 
your convictions of right are at variance ; and 
if they decide, as Clara did, in favor of con- 
science and duty, against your inclinations and 
their own, hold them as a treasure too valuable 
to he bought or sold for all the gems and gold 
of India. 

Clara took but a little while to think before 
she answered, Yes, Emily, I think you will 
have to go ; I am very sorry to lose you ; but 
then, we can always lunch together, and we 
can walk together from school.” 

The bell rang for the young ladies to take 
their seats, and Emily, without another word, 
gathered up her books and went to the seat be~ 
side Julia Day. 

Are you going to sit here?” asked Julia 
in surprise. 

“Yes ; Mrs. Wilmot said we might study 
together if I would leave Clara and sit with 
you.” 

“ Why, I thought you would not leave Cla- 
ra Layton for any body.” 

“ I was very sorry to leave her, but I want- 


74 


EMILY HERBERT. 


ed to study with, you, and Clara says we can 
still lunch together, and walk together.” 

I am sure I am very sorry to take you 
from her,” said Julia with a little displeasure 
in her tone ; but the second bell had rung, 
after which the studies were to be resumed, 
and Emily, imitating her friend, Clara, looked 
smihngly in Julians face and put her finger to 
her lip, while she opened the book, from which 
they were next to recite. It was geography, 
and taking her Atlas, she pointed out to Julia 
the towns, rivers, etc., which Charles had pre- 
viously shown to her. Unaccustomed to ap- 
ply herself, Julia soon grew weary, yet Emily 
had the pleasure of hearing her answer one or 
two questions correctly, when they were called 
to recite. It was more than she had been able 
to do before. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


75 


CHAPTEK YII. 

If it had not been for the influence of ber 
mother and Charlie at home, and of Mrs. Wil- 
mot and Clara Layton at school, we fear Emi- 
ly would soon have repented the sacrifice she 
had made in a moment of generous compassion. 
It was so difficult to induce Julia Day to pay 
the necessary attention to her studies, that 
Emily might he excused for being sometimes 
weary of what seemed a hopeless effort. But 
this was not her worst trial ; in the company 
of her first friends at school, JuHa still assumed 
some of her vain and haughty airs, and Emily 
would go home to tell her mother of her provo- 
cation, and to ask, if Mrs. Herbert thought 
that she ought to help Julia, or to show her 
any thing, when she behaved so badly to her ; 


76 


EMILY HERBERT. 


and still slie received from her mother the same 
gentle lessons, ‘‘ Forgive as you would he for- 
given — ^let not your good he overcome by evih’’ 
Then, Mrs. Wilmot once thanked her for the 
help she was giving her with Julia Day, and in 
the strength of those pleasant words, Emily 
bore much from Julia without complaint. 
Clara, too, helped her to bear, for she said, I 
do miss you very much, yet I am glad you went 
to Julia Day, for I should never have loved you 
so much, or have known how very patient you 
could be, if I had not seen you so kind to her."' 

When she repeated these pleasant speeches 
to Mrs. Herbert, her gentle wisdom was as 
ready to warn her against vanity as against dis- 
couragement. “ I am glad that Mrs. Wilmot 
thinks you have done some good in her school,” 
she would say, ‘^but as to your patience, I 
hope my dear little girl did not forget, when 
Clara talked of that, to teU her how very im- 
patient she has often been with Julia Day, and 
how many times she would have given up every 
attempt to be kind to her, if she had not been 
soothed and encouraged by others.” 


EMILY HERBERT. 


77 


What a blessing is such a mother to a child, 
leading her into the ways of wisdom, which are 
ever paths of pleasantness I Emily Herbert 
felt this in after life, when she could see with 
clearer eyes the dangers and temptations 
through which she had passed, and the anxious 
love which, drawing its strength from the Di- 
vine promises to faithful parents, had watched 
and guarded her with unsleeping care. 

But perhaps not the least influential mo- 
tive that Emily found to perseverance, was 
given by Julia herself, who began to show an 
affectionateness of nature, for which no one, 
when she flrst entered on her school life, had 
given her credit. She no longer seemed pleas- 
ed at any rudeness or inattention from her 
former associates to Emily, she even showed 
that she preferred Emily to them, by occasion- 
ally asking her to let her take her luncheon 
with Clara and her, in their corner. It was 
impossible that Emily should not feel flattered 
when Miss Van Euysdael and Miss Livermore, 
who had never deigned to notice her at all, 
found their invitations rejected by Julia, that 


78 


EMILY HERBERT. 


she might spend her recess with Clara and 
Emily. Doubtless Emily thought this a sign 
of very good sense in Julia. So between the 
flattery to herself and the higher opinion of Ju- 
lia, she began to love her very truly, and to feel 
it no longer bard to sit with her and to help 
her to study. 

If Julia Day had had a judicious and sensi- 
ble mother, like Mrs. Herbert, the good im- 
pressions made on her at school would have 
been deepened at home, hut this was not so. 
All Mrs. Day's influence on the mind of her 
child tended to foster her vanity and selfishness. 
She seldom asked her any questions respecting 
her school, hut when she did, she was not alto- 
gether pleased with her answers. It did not 
seem to her that Julia's associates were of the 
right order, or that she was taking the position 
due to her father's wealth, and her mother's 
fashion. 

“ I must exert myself to rectify this," she 
said to herself, ‘‘Julia shall have a party on 
her birthday ; not a common party, hut some- 
thing to he talked of ; she shall invite all the 


EMILY HERBERT. 


79 


school-girls who are proper associates for her — 
they will tall?: to the others of the affair, and so 
she will obtain her proper stand.'' 

Accordingly, on the approach of Julia's 
birthday, which happened on the twentieth of 
J anuary, Mrs. Day announced her intention to 
give, in her daughter's name, a child's fancy 
hall. It was to he a very extraordinary affair, 
and so much amusement was anticipated from 
seeing the children dressed up as kings and 
queens, knights and warriors, fairies and wiz- 
ards, flower-girls and gypsies, and trying to sup- 
port the characters which belonged to the dress- 
es, that every body wanted to he there ; and 
had Mrs. Day listened to the petitions of all 
her friends who solicited invitations, there would 
have been as many grown persons as children. 
But she rigidly limited her invitations to twen- 
ty grown persons. She wished to have about 
eighty children ; hut, she said, there might he 
a few more or a few less, when her list was 
made out. First, on tliis list, she placed those 
at Mrs. Wilmot's school, who were to be hon- 
ored with an invitation. 


80 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Grive me the names of all the school-girls 
you want to invite, Julia, said she, one morn- 
ing, ^‘and I will write them down and see about 
them.'" 

Julia gave a pretty long list, which was 
headed by the names of Clara Layton and Emi- 
ly Herbert. 

‘^Herbert ! Herbert !" said Mrs. Day to 
herself, as she ran over the list, after writing it. 

What Herbert is this, Julia ? I do not know 
them at all. Find out where they live." 

Oh ! I know, mamma," answered Julia, 
quickly, they live in Bank-street." 

“ Bank-street ! A very out-of-the-way 
place — ^but go along — will see about it." 

It is not worth while for us to trouble our- 
selves with the source from which Mrs. Day de- 
rived her information respecting the doubtful 
names on the list of Julia's friends. It must 
have been invaluable to her, for before Julia 
had returned to dinner, her decisions on this 
important subject had been made, and the 
names of those who were inadmissible had been 
erased from the scroll. First of these was our 
little friend Emily Herbert. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


81 


Oh ! but, mamma, I must ask Emily,'' 
cried Julia. 

Indeed, you must not," replied Mrs. Bay, 
decidedly. I should like to knoAv, what a 
girl, whose mother lives in the third story of a 
house in Bank-street, and works for a milliner, 
would do at a fancy ball." 

But I promised her I would invite her, 
mamma, and I had rather not have any 
birth-day party, if I cannot ask those I like 
to it." 

Very well — you need not have any ; ring 
the bell, and I will order John to bring back 
the invitations I gave him to take out. I can 
write a note to Madame Lefevre to let the Ti- 
tania dress alone, that I gave orders for this 
morning." 

This was putting Julia's sincerity to a test 
it could not stand. Instead of moving to the 
bell, she remained perfectly still, near her 
mother, and, after a moment's hesitation, said, 
with something like a smile upon her before 
clouded face, ‘‘ What is a Titania dress, mam- 
ma?" 


6 


82 


EMILY HEEBEKT. 


A dress for tlie queen of fbe fairies, who 
was named Titania/' 

But how can you tell what she wore, since 
you never saw any fairies ? 

Oh ! we can fancy what she would have 
worn, if there had been any such person/' 

And what did you fancy, mamma 
^^A dress of silver-sprigged lace over full 
pantalets of the same ; looped up at the side, 
and sleeves, and surrounded at the neck with 
wild flowers ; a coronal of wild flowers on the 
head, and satin shppers embroidered with sil- 
ver. Now, must I tell Lefevre that she need 
not make it 

Mrs. Day smiled, for she knew by Julia's 
face, that vanity had conquered her regard for 
Emily Herbert's feelings and her own promise, 
and that she would interpose no obstacle to the 
entertainment, which was to give her the op- 
portunity of exhibiting herself in a Titania 
dress. The only reference Julia made to her 
friend after this, was in the question, Mam- 
ma, what shall I say to Emily Herbert, about 
not asking her ? " 


EMILY HERBERT. 


83 


“ Nothing/' replied Mrs. Day, unless she 
should be so ill-bred as to ask why you do not 
invite her. If she should, tell her I gave the 
invitations, and that I did not choose to invite 
any out of our own set.” 

That day, and for several succeeding days, 
Emily found Julia less pleasant. She seemed 
to care less for her studies, avoided her at re- 
cess, drew closer to her earliest intimates in 
the school, and even sometimes went so far as 
to write notes to them and slip into their hands 
in passing, a thing which she knew to be quite 
contrary to Mrs. Wilmot's rules. Emily was 
very much hurt by this change, much more 
than she had been by Julia's unkindness when 
they first met ; for, now, she really loved Julia, 
and those we love can wound us far more than 
any indifferent persons can do. Clara, too, was 
7exed at this change, for Emily's sake, and be- 
cause, being ona of those invited to the fancy 
ball, she suspected the cause. With a degree 
of consideration not always exercised by older 
people, Clara never spoke to Emily of this ball, 
lest her friend should feel mortified at not hav- 


84 


EMILY HERBERT. 


ing received an invitation to it. But others 
were not so thoughtful or so kind. The hall 
was the great topic of conversation at school, 
during the recess, and it was scarcely possible 
that Emily should avoid hearing it discussed. 

Oh dear!'' cried Julia, one day when 
twelve o'clock found her with some sums un- 
done, which Mrs. Wilmot had directed her to 
have ready for her examination immediately 
after recess. “ What shall I do ? I don't un- 
derstand these sums at all. Do, Emily, show 
me how you did them." 

It was Julia's first application for help for 
many days, and with a little triumphant feel- 
ing at her heart, yet, with a kindly manner, 
Emily laid aside the luncheon she had already 
taken from her desk, and began to explain the 
points that puzzled her companion. They were 
thus engaged, with Clara Layton, who had come 
for Emily, standing beside them, when Miss 
Van Euysdael came up, exclaiming, Oh ! do 
Julia come here — I want to talk to you about 
your hall — I have got my dress ; I am going 
to he a Greek girl — " 


EMILY HERBERT. 


85 


“ Pray don't talk to me now ; I must finisk 
this sum/' said Julia. I will come to you pre- 
sently ; " and she bit her lip with vexation, as 
she glanced at Emily, who could not help col- 
oring a little, when the ball to which she had 
been promised an invitation, that had never 
come, was thus named before her. 

Clara was vexed too, and said, “ Come, 
Emily, or we shall lose all our recess." 

Just this one minute, Clara," pleaded Ju- 
lia. Oh ! thank you, Emily — that's done — 
and I am so obliged to you. I am sure I wish 
I could have asked you to my ball." 

^^And why could you not?" asked Clara, 
somewhat bluntly. “ I am sure you have been 
more intimate with Emily, than with any body 
else, and she has done more for you than any 
body else in school has." 

I know it ; and I begged mamma to let 
me ask her, but she said she could not ask any 
body that was so completely out of our set." 

I should like to know what made Emily 
out of your set," said Clara, still more indig- 
nant at this assumption of social superiority on 
Julia's part. 


86 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Because, mamma says Emily’s mother 
lives in the third story of a house, and sews for 
a milliner.” 

Clara in her earnestness, and Julia in her 
vexation, had spoken more loudly than usual, 
and their words reached other ears than those 
for which they were intended. Emily had not 
stirred from her place beside Clara, kept there 
first by curiosity to hear Julia’s answer, and 
then by mortification and distress. Her head 
was bowed very low — large tears gathered in 
her eyes and fell on her burning cheeks. Sud- 
denly an arm was passed around her, and a 
hand was laid caressingly upon her head. She 
looked up to meet Mrs. Wilmot’s land eyes. 

Do not be distressed, my child,” said that 
kind lady, ‘‘ few have so much to be proud of in 
a mother, as you have. Stop, Miss Julia Day,” 
she continued, as that young lady was stealing 
off, somewhat abashed, as you seem to be but 
half acquainted with the history of Miss Her- 
bert’s mother, allow me to tell you the rest. 
A few years ago she was surrounded by all the 
luxuries and elegancies of wealth. I do not 


EMILY HERBERT. 


87 


know that yon would then have been admitted 
to her set, for the wealthiest could not gain ac- 
cess there, if they were not also good. She has 
become less rich by some of those circumstances 
over which we have no control, and which may 
make the wealthiest man in New York poor to- 
morrow, but Mrs. Herbert is not one whit less 
loved or less esteemed, by those who know her 
now, than she was formerly. Indeed, she is, if 
possible, more esteemed, for she has shown 
what she was able to do, and now educates her 
children, as you may see, by her daughter here, 
as well as the children of the wealthiest, with- 
out asking aid from any one.” 

The flush of pleasure had dried the tears on 
Emily's cheeks, and though her eyes drooped 
with the fulness of delight, her head was erect. 
Clara, who still stood beside her, and kept her 
hand clasped in hers, looked around her with a 
triumphant glance. Julia Day, pale, abashed 
and tearful, could only murmur, I am very 
sorry, ma'am. I am sure I did not mean any 
harm.'' 

Emily closed her relation of this scene to 


88 


EMILY HERBERT. 


her mother, when she went home, with I will 
not sit by Julia Day any more. I mean to ask 
Mrs. Wilmot to-morrow, to let me sit by Clara, 
and then I'll see who will help Miss Juba, or 
show her her sums." 

And so, because poor Julia Day has been 
vain and silly, my little Emily will indulge a 
spirit of anger and revenge ; that will he, in- 
deed, to let her good he overcome of evil." 

And must I hear every thing from Julia 
Day?" asked Emily, too much provoked by 
what seemed like disrespect to her mother from 
Julia, to be easily moUified. 

If these trials of temper shall indeed teach 
you to hear every tiling^ Julia Day wiU truly 
have been a useful companion to you. But, 
letting the every thing alone for the present, 
perhaps it will help you to hear this one thing, 
if you remember that she has told nothing hut 
the truth. We are certainly not in Mrs. Day's 
set ; and as to the fancy hall, I hope, my child, 
you have too much good sense to have any de- 
sire for it. I certainly could not have consent- 
ed to your attending any thing, at once so silly 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


89 


and so expensive^ if you had had a dozen invi- 
tations.” 

The effect of these conciliatory suggestions 
was perhaps increased by the arrival of a very 
respectful note from Mrs. Layton, the mother 
of Clara, to Mrs. Herbert, requesting her to 
permit Emily to spend the next evening — 
which was that of Julia Day's birth-night ball 
— with Clara. ^‘If Master Charles Herbert 
will accompany his sister, we shall be very hap- 
py to see him,” Mrs. Layton added. 

Emily was more than satisfied with the ex- 
change of a fancy-ball, dazzling as its splendors 
might be to her imagination, without Charlie, 
for an evening at Clara Layton's, with him. 
Clara Layton had been invited by Mrs. Day, 
but Mrs. Layton did not approve of fancy balls 
for her daughter, and the invitation was de- 
cKned. The indulgent mother, anxious to make 
some amends to her daughter for the disap- 
pointment she might feel in relinquishing so 
gay and exciting an entertainment, proposed 
that she should invite some of her young com- 
panions to spend the evening with her. Clara 


90 


. EMILY HERBERT. 


had named Emily as one of those whom she 
would like to invite. Mrs. Layton, like Mrs. 
Day, thought it necessary to make some inqui- 
ries respecting Clara's favorite, before she could 
sanction their friendship by inviting Emily to 
her house. Her inquiries were made of Mrs. 
Wilmot, who, she believed, must be well ac- 
quainted with the character of her pupils, and 
the influence they were likely to exert on each 
other. The account which she received from 
Mrs. Wilmot interested her not only in Emily, 
but also in Charlie, who was accordingly in- 
cluded in the invitation, to the great joy of 
Greorge and Henry Wilmot, who had been 
somewhat annoyed at the thought of being the 
only young gentlemen in a company of twelve 
or fourteen young ladies. 

On the appointed evening, Emily in a sim- 
ple, but neat crimson mousseline de laine, which 
was particularly becoming to her fair sldn, with 
her hair carefully brushed and curled in its own 
natural ringlets, and Charlie in his one fine 
suit, of blue broadcloth, never worn before on 
any other day than Sunday, proceeded to Mr. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


91 


Layton^s house in the Fifth Avenue. They 
felt a little trepidation, we doubt not, as they 
ascended the broad marble steps, and were 
ushered through the wide hall into the bright- 
ly-lighted parlor. But, though shy from not 
having been accustomed to visit much, Charles 
and Emily were natural and unaffected, and 
the cordial greetings of Mrs. Wilmot and Clara 
soon placed them at their ease. Though Mrs. 
Herbert had lost her fortune, she had not lost 
the habits and manners of a well-bred lady, 
and her children were trained by her, to exer- 
cise that gentle consideration and respect for 
the feelings of others, which is the source of 
true politeness. They had also been taught 
such habits of neatness and order at their sim- 
ple and frugal table, as would render them per- 
fectly agreeable guests to the most refined and 
fastidious. Their evening passed away delight- 
fully. The children acted conundrums, pro- 
posed puzzles, and played at various games, in 
which Mrs. Wilmot herself, a very entertain- 
ing person, instructed them. At half past 
nine o'clock, they were regaled with ice-cream, 


92 


EMILY HERBERT. 


and at ten the little company dispersed, each 
thinking the three hours of that evening had 
passed more rapidly than ever hours did before, 
and the happiness of Emily was perfect, when 
Mrs. Layton, at parting, put a paper of bon- 
bons into her hand for her little sister Carrie. 

It was impossible for Julia Day's guests to 
he happier than Clara Layton's had been ; in- 
deed, there was, now and then, a cloud over 
their brightness, as once when Titania lost her 
crown, and accused one of the young ladies of 
having knocked it off her head purposely, and 
once, when the Greek girl tore her embroidered 
scarf, and, crying, declared that she could never 
go home and tell her mamma, as it was an India 
scarf, and cost she did not know how many hun- 
dred dollars. Notwithstanding these cross acci- 
dents, however, the evening was very gay, and 
the ladies and gentlemen who were present as 
spectators only, enjoyed seeing the children danc- 
ing in their pretty dresses, though some of them 
were heard to say, after they had gone away, 
“ I would not have a child of mine in such a 
scene for the world. The children were per- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


93 


fectly ridiculous with their vanity and their 
fantastic dresses.'' But the children did not 
hear this, and they believed themselves very 
much admired, and separated at twelve o'clock 
very much pleased with themselves and with 
fancy balls, though many, if not most of them, 
had some complaint to make of Juha Day, who 
had been too much occupied with herself to he 
a very attentive hostess. Julia herself retired 
to bed very weary and cross, quite satisfied that 
she had been the prettiest girl in the room, and 
that nothing hut envy had made the others 
choose Mary Ford, as the Queen of Beauty, in 
one of their plays. She was sure they only did 
it to spite her ; and as she spoke thus she threw 
her crown of flowers on one side, and her spark- 
ling dress on the other, in a manner that quite 
vexed the careful Nancy, and made her ex- 
claim, Well, Miss Julie, you do go on. I'm 
sure a fancy hall don't make you seem no hap- 
pier nor sweeter-tempered." 


94 


EMILY HERBERT. 


CHAPTEE VIII. 

If the ball at Mrs. Day's was an affair of doubt- 
ful happiness, fhe discomfort of the next morn- 
ing's breakfast could not be disputed. Mr. Day 
had risen at his usual hour, and at eight o'clock 
he rang for his breakfast ; but the waiter, who 
had been up nearly all night, considered this a 
most unreasonable demand, and did not hurry 
himself to comply with it. The cook, too, 
thought fancy balls and early-rising wholly in- 
compatible, and was not ready till nine o'clock. 
At half past nine, Mrs. Day and Julia made 
their appearance. Mr. Day was just leaving 
the house, but he turned back for a moment, 
as he saw them descending the stairs, to speak 
to them. His temper was evidently not sweet- 
ened by the delay in his breakfast, for Mr. Day 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


95 


was a business man, and business men like 
punctuality. 

Julia, why are you not at school was 
his first salutation to his daughter. 

Why, papa, you could not expect me to 
go to school to-day.'^ 

And so the interruption of your studies 
is to be added to the other evils attendant 
upon last night's folly — ^let me tell you, Mrs. 
Day—" 

t'om, bring in some hot toast — ^you need 
not tell the waiter, Mr. Day " — said the lady, 
as soon as the man had left the room, in obe- 
dience to her order. 

I do not care whom I tell, for all will know 
it soon, if this extravagance on your part con- 
tinue ; and your last appearance at a fancy ball 
will be as a beggar, while your daughter, whom 
you are training up for a fine lady, may be glad 
to find employment as a lady's maid." 

As Mr. Day concluded, he fiung out of the 
room and out of the house. The sound of the 
front door, as he slammed it after his exit, might 
well have jarred on the nerves of his wife and 
daughter, for it told of a mind ill at ease. 


96 


EMILY HERBERT. 


We are sure there is no one who would not 
have felt it a relief from this scene to have ta- 
ken a peep at the little third story room, in 
which Mrs. Herbert's neat and simple breakfast 
was spread. It had been delayed for half an 
hour, that Charles and Emily might have a 
little more time to sleep, as they had not re- 
tired to bed tiU eleven, an hour of which Emily 
at least had never before been conscious. At 
half past seven Mrs. Herbert, cheerful and 
grateful, took her place at the head of her ta- 
ble ; her children ranged themselves around it, 
and after a short and simple acknowledgment 
of God's bounty, and petition for His blessing, 
the business of the meal began — not in silence, 
hut with cheerful talk, in which Mr. Layton's 
beautiful house, and Mrs. Layton's and Clara's 
kindness, were not forgotten ; indeed, had 
Charles and Emily been unmindful of them, 
they would have been recalled by Carrie's hon- 
hons, which she kept beside her, and to which 
she perpetually recurred with new thankfulness 
and delight. 

There was a little awkwardness, for a few 


EMILY HERBERT. 97 

days after her fancy ball, in Jnlia Day's man- 
ner to Emily, but as her enjoyment at Clara's 
had quite obliterated from Emily's mind all 
memory of the vexation which Julia had occa- 
sioned her, this awkwardness soon passed away, 
and the girls became sociable and friendly, if 
not intimate ; yet it was observed by others, 
if not by Emily herself, that Julia never walked 
with her, nor was she heard to say to her as 
she often did to others of her associates : I 
shall be in Washington Park, or in Union Park, 
at five or six this afternoon — ^meet me there." 

Hitherto our little Emily has been very 
happy, the tranquil current of her life being 
broken only by such slight annoyances as no 
life is entirely free from ; but a trial, a real 
trial came with the summer, which it was in- 
deed hard to bear. ' Mrs. Herbert, the tender 
mother, grew feebler and feebler — a low ner- 
vous fever set in, and the physician, whom she 
had been at last forced to consult, declared that 
her best hope was in sea air, and advised that 
she should go either to Newport or Long Branch 
for the summer. How easy to advise, how dif- 
7 


98 


EMILY HERBERT. 


ficult to accomplisli ! The poor invalid looked 
eastward from her third story window, and 
thought longingly of the dashing waves and 
the fresh breezes, but to all persuasion she only 
answered, To go would be to take the bread 
from my children's mouths." 

So she sat one evening, pale and with tears 
in her eyes, when Charles and Emily came in 
from an errand, on which she had sent them. 

To steal softly to her mother's side, to put 
her arm around her and whisper, Dear mo- 
ther ! do you feel worse?" was Emily's only 
way of showing her sympathy ; but Charles 
seized the occasion to urge his mother on the 
subject of the change of air that had been pro- 
posed to her. 

Dear mother," he said, standing before 
her, and speaking with great earnestness, do 
be persuaded to go to Newport. Think how 
important your health is to us, if you are even 
careless of yourself." 

Alas ! she had often thought it, but still 
the question recurred — What can I do? My 
children must be clothed and fed, and Emily 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


99 


must be educated, and from these necessities I 
have nothing to spare ; and to this effect she 
now answered Charles. 

“ Mother, how much would it cost for you 
to go, and to take Emily and Carrie with you 7 
I know you will not be happy if you leave them 
behind.” 

It is useless to talk of it, Charles. I did 

inquire of Dr. S , who I knew was in the 

habit of spending his summers at Newport, and 
he told me he would write and inquire for me 
at a farm house, at which they sometimes take 
boarders. He has done so, and tells me the 
lowest at which I can get a room and board, 
for myself and the two little girls, would be 
twelve dollars a week.” 

And ten weeks, which I heard the doctor 
say would be as long as you ought to stay, 
would only cost you one hundred and twenty 
dollars.” 

Only cost ! My dear boy, do you know 
that what we should save in our housekeeping 
in that time, by my absence and that of the 
little girls, would scarcely pay for our washing. 


100 


EMILY HERBERT. 


and that we have scarcely a dollar over at the 
yearns end ? ” 

Charlie was silent, and Mrs. Herbert thought 
he was convinced. The next morning, when 
the breakfast was ready, Charlie was absent, 
and Bridget said he had told her to say to his 
mother that she must not wait for him, as he 
had to go out early, and might not return for 
some time. His mother and sisters were seated 
at dinner, when they heard his springing step 
as he came bounding up the stairs, taking three 
or four steps at a time. As he threw the door 
open and entered the room, there was something 
perfectly contagious in the joyousness of his face 
— -even the invalid's languid eyes grew bright 
under its influence. 

“ Mother ! " he cried, “ can you and the 
girls be ready to go to Newport this evening ? " 

‘‘ To Newport ! " was all that Mrs. Herbert 
could say in her surprise. 

Yes, to Newport, mother" — and unable 
to contain himself, Charles gave vent to his joy 
with a Hurrah for Newport ! " and tossed his 
cap to the ceiling. Oh, mother ! I am so 
glad," he added, “ that I am almost crazy." 


EMILY HERBERT. 


101 


But glad of what, Charlie ? ” 

Glad that I can make two hundred dol- 
lars and send you to Newport."' 

But how can you make it ? I do not un- 
derstand you, my son." 

I dare say not, mother, for I hardly un- 
derstand myself ; hut you see, I went to Mrs. 
Layton this morning — I could not think of any 
body else who could help me — " 

Charles ! " and Mrs. Herbert's pale cheek 
grew red with shame — 

“ Mother ! you do not think I would shame 
you by asking for any thing but work. I 
thought Mrs. Layton might know some one 
who wanted a boy to do something. I did not 
much care what. I would have thought it no 
disgrace to do any thing honest for my mother." 

Yet, spite of his bold speech, Charlie's 
brow grew red, and his eyes misty with the 
memory of the struggle it had cost him to de- 
termine that he would accept any occupation, 
even the most menial. His mother's ear de- 
tected, too, a slight huskiness in his voice, 
though he strove hard to make it firm and 


102 


EMILY HERBERT. 


clear. In these signs of emotion, she read the 
history of his contest with himself, and of the 
victory which his affection for her had obtained 
over his boyish pride ; and as she pressed her 
quivering lips upon his forehead, her heart arose 
to heaven in thanksgiving for the blessing of 
such a son. 

And what did Mrs. Layton say, Charlie?'^ 
cried Emily, with childish curiosity. 

Say ! she did more than say,” answered 
Charlie. Oh, mother ! I shall love her as 
long as I Hve. As soon as I told her what I 
wanted, and why I wanted it, she put on her 
bonnet and shawl, and went down with me in 
an omnibus — ^for she would not wait for the car- 
riage — ^to Mr. Layton's counting-house. I did 
not know at first why she was in such a hurry, 
but I found out afterwards that Mr. Layton 
had told her that morning that he must hurry 
down because he had appointed ten o'clock to 
receive applications in answer td an advertise- 
ment which he had sent to the papers yester- 
day for a young man who could write French 
correctly. He wants him to assist the clerk 


EMILY HERBERT. 


103 


who attends to his French correspondence, and 
who has not been very well of late. Mrs. Lay- 
ton asked me if I could write French. Oh, 
mother ! was I not glad that I had taken Pro- 
fessor Doremus's advice, and added French to 
my studies at the college, when she gave me 
pen and ink and paper, and asked me, while 
she was getting ready to go with me, to write 
her a French note, telling her exactly what I 
had already told her in English. I had not 
quite finished when she came to me again, but 
she waited till I had finished, and folded and 
directed it, and then she took it and we went 
down ; and — oh, mother !— Mr. Layton's clerk 
said I would do, and Mr. Layton made an en- 
gagement with me ; and, because he knew what 
I wanted with it, he paid me the two hundred 
dollars in advance. That was trusting me a 
great deal, you know, mother ; but he said he 
had known my father, and he was sure that his 
son might be trusted. Oh ! won't I work for 
him ?" 

But, Charlie, you will be obliged to give 
up your studies at the college," said Mrs. Her- 
bert, somewhat sadly. 


104 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Oh ! never mind that — ^yon will come 
back bright and well, and then next year I may 
go back to study.” 

Not that evening, but in two days after, 
Mrs. Herbert, and Emily, and Carrie went on 
board the Newport boat, lying near the Bat- 
tery. This was a very fine boat, having a la- 
dies' cabin below, with berths ranged along its 
sides, and a saloon above, with handsome state- 
rooms opening upon it. Charlie would have 
been very glad to take for his mother one of 
these state-rooms, where the air would be very 
fresh and pure, but he found that this would 
cost something more than the berths below, 
and so he consulted her about it, and she de- 
cided that he must take the berths. She 
availed herself, however, of the privilege of sit- 
ting in the upper saloon ; and Charles, to whom 
Mr. Layton had given leave of absence for a 
couple of hours, that he might see them off, 
placed her there in a large armed chair, with 
Emily and Carrie on stools beside her, before 
he left them. 

It was many years since Mrs. Herbert had 


EMILY HERBERT. 


105 


found herself on board a steamboat, and to our 
young voyagers it was an entirely new expe- 
rience. The crowd of strangers confused them 
— they felt timid and ill at ease ; and as they 
saw groups of friends or acquaintances meeting 
and chatting gayly together, they looked around 
with the vain longing for some familiar face or 
friendly voice. Suddenly Emily's eyes grew 
bright, and with a smiling face she sprang from 
her seat, and advanced towards a group just 
entering the saloon. The lady at the head of 
this group was showily dressed, and swept 
haughtily along, attended by a gentleman, 
who, as they drew near Mrs. Herbert, said. 
This way, Mrs. Day. I left Mrs. Van Euys- 
dael on the deck, where she promised to keep 
seats for you and your party — the boat is quite 
crowded." 

Come, Julia — ^what are you stopping for?" 
cried Mrs. Day, turning around as she heard 
Emily's pleased voice exclaiming, Oh, Julia 
Day ! I am so glad to see you." At that mo- 
ment, surrounded by strangers, and in a scene 
to her so novel, Julia's face seemed that of a 
friend indeed to Emily. 


106 


EMILY HERBEET. 


How d'ye do, Emily ? — but — I must go 
to my mother," said Julia ; and she passed 
hurriedly on, deaf to the eager tones, and ap- 
parently blind to the outstretched hand of Em- 

iiy- 

To whom were you speaking, Julia? Who 
is that ? " and the haughty lady raised her eye- 
glass, and examined, with a cold, searching 
glance, our poor Emily, as she stood where 
Julia had left her, so abashed and humbled by 
her cold and hurried reception, that she could 
scarcely summon courage to move back to her 
seat. The neat gingham dress, and linen collar 
and cuffs did not win the fashionable lady's ap- 
probation, nor the blushing young face move 
her compassion. 

Who is it, I ask you, Julia ? " 

Julia, with crimsoned face, and in a tone 
that spoke her annoyance, answered, It is 
Emily Herbert, mamma— don't you know she 
was at Mrs. Wilmot's school, and you said her 
mother made caps for the milliners." 

That is the worst of schools," said Mrs. 
Day, to the gentleman beside her, as, drawing 


EMILY HERBERT. 


107 


Julia's arm tlirougli hers, slie brushed by Mrs. 
Herbert and the little Carrie, without even a 
glance ; they bring our children into all sorts 
of associations." 

Even gentle Mrs. Herbert's pale cheek 
gained a faint tinge of color, at these words, 
and Emily shrank back to her seat, with a heart 
swelling with indignation, not the less powerful 
because it was impotent. ' The slight to herself 
might be forgiven, but the contempt to her 
mother — never, never. And though the hour 
of prayer brought humbler thoughts, and at 
least a striving after better feelings, many days 
had passed, and many tears had been shed over 
this scene of bitter mortification, before Emily 
dared to say, Forgive me my trespasses as I 
forgive those that trespass against me." 

At Newport, Mrs. Day and her party were 
driven to a fashionable hotel, and Mrs. Herbert 
and her children to the more distant farm- 
house, from which they were to look out upon 
the lovely scenery, and inhale the invigorating 
breezes of that favored spot. 


108 


EMILY HERBERT. 


CHAPTEK IX. 

Beautiful scenery and invigorating breezes — 
these Newport proffers to all. They are the 
unhought gifts of the bountiful Creator ; but 
there wealth accumulates her luxuries, and 
fashion exhibits her often tasteless gauds, till 
beautiful and beneficent Nature is forgotten, 
and the hearts which should have been lifted 
by her to the contemplation of the Supremely 
Good, sink lower than ever, weighed down by 
the petty rivalries and selfish vanities of earth. 
Even children share these dangers, and those 
who, in other scenes, would be simple and nat- 
ural, enjoying the sports suitable to their age, 
and careless of all but the present pleasure, 
grow vain and affected, studious to display 
their own graces, and envious of another’s ad- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


109 


vantages. Emily and Carrie seemed out of 
reach of these influences in their humble farm- 
house, yet we are not sure hut that, as they 
gazed upon the gay crowds assembled on the 
beach, which their home overlooked, or caught 
the disdainful glances cast on them by the 
showily dressed children occupying some luxu- 
rious carriage, as they rolled in stately repose 
by the little carry-all, drawn by one horse, in 
which the farmer sometimes drove them with 
their mother, some of the bitter root of envy 
sprang up in their hearts, to defile their purity. 
They certainly began better to understand the 
distinction between rich and poor, and only the 
most careful effort on their mother's part could 
have kept them contented with their own com- 
paratively humble lot, or mindful of its many 
blessings. 

“ But I wish I had a beautiful carriage just 
for you to drive in, mamma," said Emily, one 
evening. 

If I had had beautiful carriages, and all 
the things money can buy, I should never have 
known what a dear, good son I had in Charlie, 
and how much he was willing to do for us." 


110 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Why, mamma ? 

‘‘ Because, there would have been no ne- 
cessity for him to work for us, and I could not 
be certain, therefore, that he loved us well 
enough to do it ; now he has been tried, and 
we know what he can and what he will do for 
us."' 

Dear Charlie !'" said Emily. 

For how many carriages, and for how 
much fine clothes, would you sell Charlie 7 
asked Mrs. Herbert, smilingly. 

“Not for all in the world,'^ was Emily^s 
ready answer, followed in a short time by, “Ju- 
lia Day has no brother, mamma.” 

Charlie wrote often to his mother, and 
heard often from her. The letters were very 
pleasant on both sides. Mrs. Herbert's letters 
had agreeable intelligence to give of her own 
improving health, and the enjoyments of her 
little girls ; and Charlie’s told of his satisfac- 
tion with his place, of the kindness of Mr. and 
Mrs. Layton, the faithfulness of Bridget, who 
had been left to keep house for him, and the 
attentions of the Misses Duncan. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


Ill 


That was a very happy summer to all par- 
ties — but happiest of all to Charles. It was so 
delightful to feel that he was working for his 
mother ; and when she returned to Hew York in 
September, with more of brightness in her eyes 
and color in her cheeks than he had seen in them 
for a long, long time, to hear her say, “ I owe 
it all to you, my son.^^ 

The winter was even pleasanter to him, for 
in addition to all these gratifications of feeling, 
as Mr. Layton was one of the advocates of early 
hours in closing his store, he was able to give many 
a long, quiet evening to the studies which he had 
been very reluctant to relinquish. As the year of 
his engagement with Mr. Layton drew near its 
close, Charlie thought more seriously than he had 
ever done before of the future. The satisfaction 
which Mr. Layton had expressed with his perform- 
ance of his duties was such, that he had little doubt 
he might secure a continuance of his engagement 
with him, and probably with an increased salary ; 
but Charhe was now nearly sixteen, and he felt 
that it was time that he should choose his career 
in life, and throw himself with all his powers into 


112 


EMILY HERBERT. 


it. He could not hope at the same time to reap 
the early rewards of a devotion to mercantile 
pursuits, and to continue the studies he loved, 
and by which he had sometimes hoped to fit 
himself for a professional career. He would have 
suffered any possible personal privation to be able 
to continue his studies, and in time to become a 
great lawyer — for this was the summit of his am- 
bition ; but five hundred dollars, — and he thought 
from something Mr. Layton had said, that he 
would give him that sum another year — would do 
so much for his mother. Nearer and nearer drew 
the day when the decision must be announced to 
Mr. Layton, who had already intimated a wish to 
converse with Charlie on his future plans, and still 
he wavered. The very day appointed for this 
conversation had at last come, and Charlie lin- 
gered at home after breakfast, waiting for a quiet 
moment to talk the matter over with his mother 
more fully than he had yet done, when Miss Dun- 
can, who continued her old habit of reading every 
thing in the newspaper, burst into Mrs. Herbert's 
little breakfast-room, exclaiming, “ Well, now, 
Mrs. Herbert, did you ever hear the like of this ? 


EMILY HERBERT. 


113 


I do believe the world grows wickeder every day, 
— just hear — and the old lady put her hand 
in her pocket to feel for her spectacles — dear, 
dear ! I must ha’ left them down stairs” — they 
were, in truth, resting on the top of her head. 
“ Well, Master Charles will read it for us — there 
it is : Astounding disclosure — Gigantic fraud ! ” 
and she handed the paper to Charlie, who read 
as follows : 

“ Astounding disclosure — Gigantic fraud ! 

The mercantile world has been thrown into 
the utmost consternation, and public confidence 
received a shock from which it will be long re- 
covering, by the intelligence to-day made public 
that James Day, one of our wealthiest and most 
widely-trusted merchants, has absconded, with 
more than a million of property — the proceeds of 

sales of shares in the B & D Company 

of which he was President. This has been sus- 
pected for several days, but we have been unwil- 
ling to give currency to the reports fioating about, 
lest we should injure the institution with which 
he was so closely connected. Last evening the 
failure of the institution was confidently announ- 
8 


114 


EMILY HERBERT. 


ced, an event which of course renders secrecy un- 
necessary. The robber, for such he is, is sup- 
posed to have sailed for Havre in the last steam 
packet. Go where he will, if he have a conscience, 
it must be heavily burdened by the woes of the 
widows and the orphans, whose little all he has 
pilfered.'' 

We have given the whole article, but Charles 
had not read farther than the announcement of 
the failure of the company, when his mother's 
agitation forced him to pause. Her whole income 
was derived from this company, in whose shares 
she had, by the advice of friends, invested the 
few thousands left for herself and her children, 
after the settlement of her husband's affairs. 

God have mercy upon my children ! " had 
been the cry of the mother's heart. “We are 
now destitute indeed ! " 

“ Dear mother ! " exclaimed Charlie, drop- 
ping the paper and hurrying to her side, “ news- 
papers always exaggerate so much. The B 

& D Company may have only suspended 

payment." 

“ And our next quarter's dividend is due in 


EMILY HERBERT. 


115 


a fortnight, and if not paid — oh, my son ! what 
shall I do ? and with this question, which springs 
ever and anon to the quivering lips of the despair- 
ing, Mrs. Herbert turned towards her son a face 
from which every tinge of color had vanished. 

Let us go to Mr. Layton, mother — he will 
tell us what we had better do ; besides, I was to 
talk with him this morning about engaging for 
another year. I think he will give me a higher 
salary — that will be something : we shall not be 
quite destitute.” 

Charlie's^ decision was made. No sacrifice 
seemed too great to win hope and peace for his 
mother — his gentle, patient mother, who had 
never before uttered a desponding word. 

Poor soul ! ” ejaculated Miss Duncan, whom 
both mother and son had forgotten in their agi- 
tation — “Poor soul ! better go where Charlie wants 
you to go. It will sort of comfort you to be a 
doing,” and the kind woman brought Mrs. Her- 
bert's bonnet and shawl to her from the little 
shelf in her room on which they lay, carefully 
covered from the dust. Mechanically, almost 
unconsciously, Mrs. Herbert put on her bonnet, 


116 


EMILY HERBERT. 


threw her shawl around her shoulders, and tak- 
ing her son’s offered arm, accompanied him down 
stairs. There was a strange rigidity about her 
movements as well as about her face. Charles 
began to feel frightened at the thought' of taking 
her out with him, when, as they were descending 
the second flight of stairs, they heard Emily, who 
loved her music and had profited much by her 
year’s lessons, playing, or rather practising a very 
simple air, which her mother had begged her to 
learn because it had ever been a favorite with her 
father. Whether the thought of Emily’s educa- 
tion so hopefully commenced, and now to be so 
painfully relinquished, was thus brought more 
pressingly to mind, or whether something in the 
old familiar air touched the fount of tears, we 
know not ; but suddenly drawing her arm from 
Charles, Mrs. Herbert sank upon the steps, and 
covering her face with her hands, wept bitterly. 
Her sobs drew Emily from her music and Carrie 
from her play, and soothed by the cq,resses and 
tender ejaculations of her children, Mrs. Herbert’s 
tears grew less bitter. As she folded them in her 
arms, the thought arose — ^how much better to 


EMILY HERBERT. 


117 


lose fortune than even one of these ; and she 
soon arose from her seat with a more resigned 
spirit, and saying, I think you can do all that 
is necessary without me, Charlie, — and I am 
scarcely well enough to go this morning — only 
come hack as quickly as you can — suspense is 
very hard to hear,"' — she went up stairs again, 
followed by Emily and Carrie, and laying aside 
her bonnet and shawl, she busied herself, though 
with trembling hands and limbs, about her usual 
work — a wise thing, for next to prayer, work is 
the best cure for a troubled spirit. 

Charles returned before noon, bringing con- 
firmation of their worst fears respecting the 
failure of the company — ^it was entire : no re- 
serve for the present — no hope for the future. 
“ But, dear mother, all is not lost. Mr. Layton 
has given me a bonus of one hundred dollars — 
he says I need not hesitate to take it, for that 
he always intended giving it to me, if I answered 
his expectations, and that I have more than an- 
swered them. And, for the next year, he offers 
me five hundred dollars, with the prospect of a 
further increase, if I continue with him. So we 


118 


EMILY HERBERT. 


shall have six hundred dollars this year. Can- 
not we make out with this, mamma ? 

Yes, my darling ! and his mother closed 
her eyes to hide the tears that were gathering 
in them, and rested her head for a moment 
against his arm as he stood beside her — we 
will make out with it.'' 

And Emily can still go to school and take 
her music lessons, mother ? " 

“ No, Charlie, that cannot be ; we must not 
take all your gains." 

Oh mother ! I only care for them for you : " 
there was a choking sensation in Charlie's throat, 
and he could say no more. 

Mrs. Herbert pressed her lips to the arm 
against which she rested before she answered — 
“ I know it, my son, and I never valued any 
money so much as that which you make, — it is 
sweet to be supported by you, Charlie — but it 
is necessary, dear, to expend something more on 
your dress than we did when you were a little 
boy. It is even due to Mr. Layton's generosity 
that you should appear respectably. No ; 
Emily cannot go to school or take lessons, but 


EMILY HERBERT. 


119 


she will study and practise at home, and en- 
deavor to lose as little as possible, will you not, 
Emily ? 

Oh yes, mamma ! I wish I could work for 
you like Charles — hut I will do all I can/' 

“ You shall work for me, darling, and Carrie 
too — we will all work together and work for each 
other, and that will make our tasks easy. There 
will be plenty for us to do, for we can no longer 
afford to keep Bridget." 

Many remonstrances followed this assertion, 
but Mrs. Herbert knew it must be so, if she 
would be just to all, and so it was arranged. 
Before night, Bridget had been with some diffi- 
culty made to understand that they must part 
with her, and had gone to look for another place; 
the servant girl of the Misses Duncan had, with 
their approbation, consented for a triffing sum 
to do a few things for them daily, and a woman 
had been engaged to wash for them one day in 
each week. The cooking of their simple meals 
and the ironing their clothes must be Mrs. Her- 
bert's care. Emily would keep the rooms in 
order, wash the crockery and glass used at their 


120 


EMILY HERBERT. 


meals, keep the knives clean, and the silver 
bright ; and Carrie would run on errands, and 
hand mamma her irons, and do a hundred use- 
ful things. 

The children were delighted with these plans 
— life was as yet all sport with them, and the 
change in their life seemed but a new and more 
exciting game than any they had yet played. 
Charles looked somewhat more seriously on the 
future, and Mrs. Herbert saw in it many a sad 
and many a weary hour ; yet when she knelt 
that evening with her children, there was in her 
heart less of regretful remembrance of what she 
had lost, than of earnest thanksgiving for the 
blessings still contined — she could pray for him 
who had wronged her, and her voice did not 
falter as she repeated, ‘^Forgive us our trespasses, 
as we forgive those who trespass against us.'' 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


121 


CHAPTER X. 

It is well to remember when we are tempted to 
do a wrong thing, that by the unchangeable 
laws of God, suffering must foUow it — suffering 
not to ourselves only, but to many others — we 
cannot say how many. Perhaps had Mr. Day 
seen all the sorrow that would be the conse- 
quence of his dishonest act, he would have sold 
his carriage and horses, and his fine house and 
furniture, and lived in a very plain style, rather 
than endure that sorrow himself or inflict it on 
others. And Mrs. Day, if she had been less 
haughty and arrogant, if she had prided herself 
less on the splendor and luxury that surrounded 
her, and looked down less disdainfully on those who 
could not afford the same, do you not think that it 


122 


EMILY HERBERT. 


would have been easier for her now to give them 
up, and that she would have found more sym- 
pathy and kindness in her distress ? Poor Mrs. 
Day ! Every one had something now to say of her 
extravagance and her foolish pride ; and, what 
may seem strange, those who had accepted her 
invitations and had seemed most desirous to be 
on terms of great intimacy with her, were just 
the very people who talked most unkindly of her. 
Julia, too, soon discovered that there were few 
amongst her young companions whom she had 
not offended by her consequential airs. 

Just at the time that Charles was reading 
the Astonishing disclosure,” to his mother, 
Mrs. Day's footman was doing the same in the 
kitchen, while Nancy, the cook, and the scullion 
listened with eager interest. A general council 
followed, in which it was agreed that they should 
all claim their wages, and quit as soon as they 
had received them. Accordingly, while Nancy 
was assisting Mrs. Day, who had risen late, to 
dress, she said, I'll be very much obliged to 
you, ma'am, if you'll please to pay me what's 
due on my wages.” 


EMILY HERBERT. 


123 


How much is it ? ” asked Mrs. Day. 

“ It's a month and a half, ma’am, and that’s 
fifteen dollars.” 

Fifteen dollars ! ” repeated Mrs. Day, look- 
ing at her purse. “You must wait till Mr. 
Day comes hack.” 

“ That will be waiting rather longer than I 
like, I guess,” muttered Nancy, with a frowning 
brow, and a fiounce quite remarkable in one 
usually so respectful. 

“What do you mean by such insolence,” 
inquired Mrs. Day — “ Have you been drinking ? 
You certainly must be out of your senses.” 

“ No more out of my senses than other folks. 
I guess some people were drinking more than I 
was last night.” 

“ You impertinent hussy ! ” cried Mrs. Day, 
“ do you think I will stand such language from 
you ? leave the room and the house this instant. 
I will give you half an hour to pack up your 
clothes, and if you are not olf then, I will make 
John put you out.” 

“ I guess it will take more than John to put 
me out before I get my money. I’d be a little 


124 


EMILY HERBERT. 


too proud, if I was you, to take a poor servant 
girFs wages from 'em, I would." 

Take your money, and begone ! " said Mrs. 
Day, flinging her a ten and a five dollar bill. 

Never let me see your face again, you auda- 
cious creature." 

Don't be afraid, ma'am ; I shan't be very 
anxious to see you, now that I've got my money; " 
and Nancy, having accomplished the object at 
which she aimed, left the room with a saucy 
smile upon her lips. 

“ What is the matter with Nancy, mamma ? " 
asked Julia, who was just entering her mother's- 
room. 

Why, she must be drunk, child. I shall 
take care to let all my acquaintances know her 
conduct. Ungrateful creature ! She wiU find it 
hard enough to get such another place. Ten 
dollars a month is not got from every body." 

This was but the beginning of trials to Mrs. 
Day. Before breakfast was over, John, the foot- 
man, had applied for his wages. He did not re- 
ceive them, for, in truth, Mrs. Day had not 
enough to pay him. The discovery of this re- 
moved every check upon his insolence. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


125 


Wait till Mr. Day comes ! lie exclaimed, 
repeating her words. “That will be givin' 
long credit. Folks that rob others, and run 
away, don't generally come back as I ever heard 
tell, to put themselves in the State's Prison. 
Drunk ! no, I'm no more drunk than you're 
drunk. You think I'm crazy — no I aint, and 
you'll see I aint if you'll read the newspaper this 
morning. Mr. Day be back to-day from Phila- 
delphia ? He never went to Philadelphia, and 
that we all knowed well enough from the first — 
for people don't carry two great trunks in gen- 
eral to Philadelphia — only it took the morning 
paper to tell us why the trunks went away in 
the night, and where he was gone." 

Before John's speech was done, Mrs. Day was 
reading the paragraph to which he had referred. 
Her hands grew cold and her heart almost stopped 
its beating as she read, but pride sustained her 
yet awhile ; “ I must not let him see my distress," 
she thought, and then with a laugh she turned 
to J ohn, exclaiming, “ And so, on the strength 
of this newspaper story, you thought it wise to 
treat me with such insolence. You will be sorry 


126 


EMILY HERBERT. 


enough for it when Mr. Day conies bach. Julia, 
make haste with your breakfast, and go over to 
Mr. Van KuysdaeFs, and ask him to step here. 
And now, sir,'' — to John — leave the parlor. 
He will see you when he comes." 

And beginning to think that he might really 
have been too hasty in his belief of the newspaper, 
John went. 

* Mr. Van Ruysdael was engaged, and so was 
Mr. Livermore, but Julia at length found a gen- 
tleman who consented to call on her mother. He 
was, as it proved, one to whom Mr. Day owed a 
large sum of money, and he was anxious to know 
whether any settlement had been made on Mrs. 
Day at her marriage, and whether she could be 
induced to do any thing for the payment of his 
debt. There had been no settlement, — Mrs. Day 
had nothing secured to her — and before this try- 
ing day was at an end, she found that she could 
call neither the house nor furniture, the carriage 
nor the horses, on which she had prided herself 
so much, her own. She began to fear even for 
her jewelry. “ I must try to save that for J ulia," 
she said to herself — ‘^it is all she will have." 


EMILY HERBERT. 


127 


People often deceive themselves in the motives 
of their actions, and certainly Mrs. Day proved 
afterwards that she thought more of saving for 
herself than for Julia. Whatever might have 
been her motive, she did succeed in conveying 
away much valuable jewelry, when, about a week 
afterwards, and the day before that on which her 
house and furniture were to be sold, she went to 

the small village of S , in Connecticut, with 

her brother, Mr. Mi lien, a gentleman of whom 
the acquaintances of Mrs. Day had never heard, 
till her misfortunes threw her upon his compas- 
sion. Those who saw him, when he came for her, 
said that he seemed a coarse and ignorant man, 
but they thought he must be a kind brother, for 
h^ had come as soon as she had written for him, 
and offered her at once a home in his house, ap- 
parently forgetful of all her past neglect. There 
was afterwards some reason to believe that some 
of Mrs. Day^s jewels had bribed him to this show 
of kindness ; but of this nothing was known at 
the time. 

Poor Julia Day ! Greatly indeed was she to 
be pitied. All the wealth and the show of which 


128 


EMILY HERBERT. 


she had been so vain was gone, and what had she 
left ? She, too, had to work, for her uncle was 
only the keeper of a village inn, and could not 
afford to support her in indolence ; and no tender 
mother taught her to see a Father's loving though 
chastening hand in her trials — no affectionate 
brother hke Charlie, or darling sister like Carrie, 
lightened her labors by their tenderness. 

Mrs. Day soon became impatient of the life 
she led with her brother, and by his advice she 
went to Boston to open a private boarding-house. 
It requires cheerfulness and good temper to make 
a house agreeable, and these Mrs. Day did not 
have, so that her house was not much patronized, 
and finding at the end of six months that she was 
losing money by it, she gave it up and returned 
to New York, hoping that she might live there 
on the money derived from the sale of her jewels 
and on the favors she would receive from her fash- 
ionable friends. Alas for her ! she soon found 
that she had no friends. She had been over- 
bearing and haughty in her prosperity, even 
to her intimates, and they were too like herself 
not to remember it against her in her adversity. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


129 


Her advances were received always with coldness, 
often with rudeness ; yet she lingered, like a dis- 
contented spirit, around her former haunts, living 
in poverty upon what would have supported her 
in comfort in the country, enduring many priva- 
tions, that she might have the gratification of a 
distant how occasionally from some leader of fash- 
ion, who had once been proud of a seat in her 
carriage or an invitation to her parties. 

When her mother went to Boston, Julia, 
much against her own will, was left with her 
uncle. Mr. Millen had neither wife nor child, and 
to all Julia's tearful entreaties that her mother 
would take her with her, Mrs. Day replied — You 
had a great deal better stay here — your uncle is 
rich, and I dare say he will make you his heir." 

J ulia soon felt, that even an assurance of this 
would be dearly purchased, by the life she led 
after her mother was gone. At the earliest dawn 
she was summoned to work — summoned not 
with the mother's kiss and gentle words, which 
roused Emily from slumber, but with a harsh 
voice and angry threats. 

“ Wake up, Miss Lazy Bones," was Mr. Mil- 


130 


EMILY HERBEKT, 


len's general call to her, — if you aint down in 
five minutes you^l have no breakfast — I can't 
feed people that sleep all day/' 

And the proud J ulia Day, having learned that 
this threat was no pretence, would rise with 
trembling haste and dress herself — a thing she 
once thought impossible — with eager hands. It 
was a piteous sight to see this poor child, — for a 
child she still was,— dressed in the torn and soil- 
ed finery — the muslins and lawns, the cashmeres 
and silks — worn in better days, engaged in the 
most menial employments. In these once gay 
and costly habiliments, with which Mr. Milieu 
constantly reproached her, even while he refused 
to buy others for her till they were worn out, she 
was employed in sweeping and dusting, cleaning 
knives, setting tables, or running on errands to 
the grocer. The very sight of such a contrast 
was an impressive lesson to pride ; what must the 
endurance of it have been ? 


EMILY HERBERT. 


131 


CHAPTEK XI. 

Cheerfully and lovingly were the tasks per- 
formed in the little third-story rooms in Bank- 
street, but the summer was warm, and Mrs. Her- 
bert soon found that even a willing spirit does not 
make cooking and ironing easy to unaccustomed 
hands. Many a sad foreboding had Charles, as 
day after day he saw his gentle mother seat her- 
self at table, and strive, by pleasant words and 
smiles, to blind her children to the fact that she 
herself was too fevered and too weary to eat any 
portion of that which she had prepared for din- 
ner. Then, when the flush of fatigue had passed 
away, it was even sadder to see the pale, worn 
face. Emily was old enough to see these chan- 
ges, and to grieve over them, and deftly did her 
little feet run to her own tasks, and her hands 


134 


EMILY HERBEKT. 


quite, and Mrs. Herbert nearly dressed, tbougb 
she was obliged to stop every now and then in 
order to bathe her head, which, she acknow- 
ledged, ached very much. 

^‘Why did you not awake me, my dear 
child ? ” she said as soon as Emily entered ; “ I 
ought to have been up long since.'' 

Oh mamma ! " answered Emily, as she 
offered her morning kiss, “ you look so pale, I 
am almost sorry you are awake now, though 
Charlie and I have the nicest breakfast for you 
that ever was — hut I must go now and put it 
on the table ; " and away the busy housewife 
ran. 

The breakfast was soon set, and as Emily 
and Charlie looked at it together, she exclaimed, 
“ Oh Charlie ! do you not like to work for mam- 
ma ? 1 think it is a great deal better than 

being rich : " — and Mrs. Herbert almost felt so 
too, as she partook of the breakfast which such 
loving hands had prepared for her. She cer- 
tainly ate an egg and a slice of toast that morn- 
ing which she would not have eaten had they 
been prepared by a professed cook. The coffee 


EMILY HERBERT. 


135 


she thought very good, too, and declared that it 
had done her head good. Yet when Charles re- 
turned in the evening, she was lying down, and 
as he pressed his lips to the hand she extended 
to him, he thought it felt hot and feverish. 

Mother ! you are not well, — I am sure you 
are not. Pray let me go for Doctor S .” 

I cannot, my child, — I cannot afford to be 
ill : I must be well” The tone was unlike the 
gentle Mrs. Herbert's — it was excited by fever. 

“ I must go for Doctor S , mother ; 

think what would become of us if you were ill." 

“ It is that thought which is killing me," 
cried the mother, with a burst of tears. Before 
she could recover herself, Charlie was down stairs 

and on his way to the office of Dr. S . The 

good doctor was there, and accompanied him at 
once. To abate the fever for the present, and 
compose the nerves of his patient, was no very 
difficult task to the skilful physician ; but he 
said to Charlie as he went out — “ Your mother 
has been doing too much — she must have rest 
and change, or I will not answer for the conse- 
quences." 


134 


EMILY HERBERT. 


quite, and Mrs. Herbert nearly dressed, tbough 
she was obliged to stop every now and then in 
order to bathe her bead, which, she acknow- 
ledged, ached very much. 

^‘Why did you not awake me, my dear 
child ? ” she said as soon as Emily entered ; “ I 
ought to have been up long since.'' 

“ Oh mamma ! " answered Emily, as she 
offered her morning kiss, you look so pale, I 
am almost sorry you are awake now, though 
Charlie and I have the nicest breakfast for you 
that ever was — but I must go now and put it 
on the table ; " and away the busy housewife 
ran. 

The breakfast was soon set, and as Emily 
and Charlie looked at it together, she exclaimed, 
Oh Charlie ! do you not like to work for mam- 
ma ? I think it is a great deal better than 
being rich : " — and Mrs. Herbert almost felt so 
too, as she partook of the breakfast which such 
loving hands had prepared for her. She cer- 
tainly ate an egg and a slice of toast that morn- 
ing which she would not have eaten had they 
been prepared by a professed cook. The coffee 


EMILY HERBERT. 


135 


slie thought very good, too, and declared that it 
had done her head good. Yet when Charles re- 
turned in the evening, she was lying down, and 
as he pressed his lips to the hand she extended 
to him, he thought it felt hot and feverish. 

“ Mother ! you are not well, — I am sure you 
are not. Pray let me go for Doctor S .” 

I cannot, my child, — I cannot afford to be 
ill : I must be welL” The tone was unlike the 
gentle Mrs. Herbert's — it was excited by fever. 

“ I must go for Doctor S , mother ; 

think what would become of us if you were ill." 

“It is that thought which is killing me," 
cried the mother, with a burst of tears. Before 
she could recover herself, Charlie was down stairs 

and on his way to the office of Dr. S . The 

good doctor was there, and accompanied him at 
once. To abate the fever for the present, and 
compose the nerves of his patient, was no very 
difficult task to the skilful physician ; but he 
said to Charlie as he went out — “ Your mother 
has been doing too much — she must have rest 
and change, or I wiU not answer for the conse- 
quences." 


136 


EMILY HERBERT. 


How the words smote on his heart, and 
what a burden they left there ! Too heavy a 
burden for one so young. And he must bear it 
alone — he could not go with it to her who had 
aided him to bear every other burden — neither 
could he share it with Emily ; he feared she 
would not be able to control her sorrow, and her 
mother, perceiving her agitation, would become 
agitated herself. He could only, in the stillness 
of the night, and the solitude of his own room, 
sob out his sorrows and his petitions for aid in 
the ear of Him who is ever present, and who 
pitieth those that fear Him, and that hope in 
His mercy, even as a Father pitieth his children. 

The next morning, Emily rose very early, 
and began to dress herself with as little noise as 
possible, that she might not awake her mother, 
whom she supposed to be asleep, as she lay with 
her eyes closed ; but before she was dressed, Mrs. 
Herbert opened her eyes and said, in a feeble 
voice, Darling, what makes you rise so early ? ” 
Because, dear mamma, Charlie and I are 
going to get breakfast again this morning, and 
you are going to lie still and sleep, if you can, 


EMILY HERBERT. 137 

till we bring you a nice little breakfast on a 
little stand, and put it close by you, here/^ 

No, darling, I must get up this morning — 
there is so much to do,'' — and the anxious mother 
attempted to rise, but her head swam, and she 
sank again upon her pillows, and closed her 
eyes. 

“ There, dear mother, you see, you had better 
lie still till you get your tea and toast. Charlie 
got a little tea and loaf sugar from Miss Dun- 
can — he says he can bring her some again this 
evening — he knew you liked tea best when you 
were not well." 

“ My ffood children — but who will take care 
of you.?" 

Don't you know, mamma, you always told 
us our Father in heaven would." 

Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings 
Thou hast perfected praise," thought Mrs. Her- 
bert, as, soothed by the remembrance of those 
promises which had ever been as “an anchor to 
W soul, both sure and steadfast," she folded 
her hands tranquilly, and a more placid expres- 
sion stole over her face. In the strength of that 


138 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


peaceful hour she took the tea and toast which 

her children brought, and when Dr. S came 

at ten o'clock, he found her sitting up and busy 
with her needle. Soon after he had gone away, 
Mrs. Layton, who was now her frequent visitor, 
called, bringing with her in the carriage a mould 
of jelly and one of hlanc mange. She brought 
them herself up stairs, saying to Mrs. Herbert 
as she entered, “ Charles told Mr. Layton yester- 
day, that you were not very well, and as we had 
a little supper party last night, I put these 
dishes aside thinking you might be tempted to 
eat some of them. I think when we have but 
little appetite, we often prefer things that are 
made abroad to our home cookeries, even though 
they may not be half so good," 

‘‘We are at least gratified by the kind re- 
membrance," said Mrs. Herbert, as she clasped 
the friendly hand which Emily had relieved of 
its loaded basket. 

This was not the only kindness received that 
day. Miss Duncan had come in at an earlier 
hour, to say that her girl would get Mrs. Her- 
bert's dinner at the same time with her own, 


EMILY HERBERT. 


139 


and would go to the butcher for her if she wished. 
But Mrs. Herbert did not care to have her go to 
the butcher's. Charlie is to dine down town 
to-day/' she said, — “he thought that would 
take some trouble from me — and if she will boil 
some potatoes for us, they will serve for the chil- 
dren and me." 

Cheered by these acts of kindness, which 
seemed to her a fulfilment of the promise so 
sweetly recalled to her in the morning by Emily, 
the poor widow felt an untroubled peace which 
many a wealthy votary of fashion might have 
envied, as she sat sewing for the children whose 
affection was in her estimation a full reward for 
all her cares. They were to dine at one o'clock 
to-day, as Charlie was not to be with them, and 
this would save Carrie's lunch, and then, Mrs. 
Herbert said, they would have a third meal, 
which they had given up when they gave up 
Bridget, making their late dinner serve also for 
tea. “ But this evening," she said, “ we will 
have a little bread and milk, and Charlie shall 
have his share of this nice jelly and blanc mange 
— we will put it down in the cellar to keep cold 
for him." 


140 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


It was almost a pity that such kind arrange- 
ments should not have been carried out, hut in- 
stead of dining down town and not coming home 
till evening, Charlie's light step was heard, as 
they sat at dinner with their dish of potatoes at 
the head of the table, and the mould of jelly 
and hlanc mange as side-dishes. He sprang 
rapidly up the stairs, and stopped at each land- 
ing place to wait for some one who followed him 
with a heavier and slower tread. Mrs. Herbert 
and the girls looked at each other, each asking 
with their eyes Who can it be ? " 

For an instant, the thought of her dinner, 
and the wish that she had a better one to offer 
a stranger, passed through Mrs. Herbert's mind. 
It was only for an instant, however, and then 
Charles was before her, attended by an elderly 
gentleman, who looked strong and healthy, 
though his uncovered head was nearly white. 

Mamma, this is — " 

Mr. Thomas," interrupted the gentleman 
himself, who had some acquaintance with your 
uncle, Mr. Kichardson, in China." 

I am glad to see any acquaintance of my 


EMILY HERBERT. 


141 


good uncle,” said Mrs. Herbert, rising from the 
table, and offering her band to the stranger. 

I had hoped before this time to welcome him 
to America himself.” 

1 suspect he thought you had all forgot- 
ten him,” said the stranger. 

“ Then he was much mistaken, sir. My 
mother did not permit me to forget him, and 
my children must have short memories, indeed, 
if they could so soon forget one who has so 
lately shown us great kindness.” 

My dear niece,” exclaimed the old gentle- 
man, as he drew Mrs. Herbert to him, and 
folded his arms around her ; my dear niece, 
your uncle has come back, and he feels as if he 
was indeed at home, when he looks at you and 
hears you speak — ^you are so much like your 
dear mother in person and voice. I doubt not 
you are like her in feelings, too.” 

Mrs. Herbert was so feeble that the surprise 
made her feel a little faint. Her uncle saw it, 
and placing her again in her chair, he made her 
drink a glass of water, while he turned to kiss 
Emily and Carrie. 


142 


EMILY HERBERT. 


And did Charlie know who you were ? 
asked Carrie. 

Yes” said he, seating himself, and taking 
the little questioner on his knee. I heard 
about Charlie from a clerk that Mr. Layton 
sent out to China on business ; and I heard 
some other things, too, that made me think I 
had better come home and take care of mam- 
ma, and let you take care of me. So I knew 
where to go for Charlie, and I begged a holiday 
from Mr. Layton, that he might show me the 
way here, and spend the afternoon with us.^' 
Emily, while he was saying this, had taken 
the dish, and run down for some hot potatoes. 
She now came in with them, and placed them 
on the table, while Mrs. Herbert invited her 
uncle and Charles to partake of their dinner. 
She was too well-bred, and too truthful to make 
apologies for what was the best she had to offer, 
and Mr. Kichardson was too kind-hearted not 
to relieve her at once from any fear that he 
would not be able to dine on such humble fare. 
He ate heartily of the potatoes, declaring they 
were the greatest possible treat to him, as he 


EMILY HERBERT. 


143 


liked them very much, and had not seen any 
for a long time. He partook also of the jelly 
and hlanc mange, though more sparingly. This 
may seem to some of you rather a poor dinner, 
hut I assure you, there was not that day a hap- 
pier party assembled at dinner in all New York. 
Charles had relieved his heart of its burden, by 
telling his uncle, as he walked up with him, 
what Dr. S. had said, and by receiving from 
him a promise that his mother should have 
both rest and change. A conversation with 
Mr. Richardson relieved Mrs. Herbert also of 
all her anxieties. The old gentleman had ac- 
quired a large fortune in China ; he had no 
near relations except herself and her children, 
and his strongest wish was that, as they would 
inherit his fortune at his death, they would also 
consent to share his home while he lived. Do 
not speak of obhgation to me, my dear niece,^' 
he said, as with streaming tears she tried to 
express her sense of his kindness. I shall 
give you some of the money, which I have suf- 
ficiently proved could not of itself make me 
happy ; and your children wiQ give me, I hope, 


144 


EMILY HERBERT. 


the affection which, will make me a happy man. 
Without you I should have no home — that 
which I long above all things to have. And, 
by the by, where shall our home be ? ” 

And it was decided, for many reasons, that 
the home should be in New York, ‘^though we 
will not settle down till next spring, said Mr. 
Kichardson. The remainder of this summer 
we must travel in the Northern States, and the 
winter we will spend at the South. There is 
much in both that I would like to see, and I 
have lived long enough abroad to feel that both 
are my country, and to love them as such.^^ 

We need not tell you that this generous 
uncle made ample provision for all the wants 
of the family he had adopted as his own. He 
was particularly anxious about the dress of 
Emily and Carrie, of whom he made great pets ; 
and but for Mrs. Herbert's good taste, and her 
• influence over him, they might sometimes have 
appeared as fine as ever Julia Day had done. 
Their mother was careful that their dress 
should be as simple as it was neat and becom- 
ing to their age, and to the position in which 


EMILY HERBERT. 


145 


their good uncle had placed them. Having as- 
certained that Charles desired to become a law- 
yer, Mr. Richardson prevailed on Mr. Layton 
to release him from his engagement with him, 
and offered him a full collegiate course at any 
institution he pleased, before beginning his 
study of the law. Charlie preferred the Free 
Academy to any other place of study. He 
knew the professors, he said, and they knew 
him, and were interested in him. 

Two years there, dear uncle, will he all I 
shall ask — and then for the law,"' said Charles. 

Mr. Richardson objected a little at first, to 
sending his nephew to an institution which 
seemed to him to be intended for those who 
could not pay. But Charlie said there was 
room for all, and Mr. Layton suggested that he 
might make a present to the institution of a 
sum equal to that which would have been the 
cost of his nephew's education elsewhere — and 
he was satisfied. 


7 


146 


EMILY HERBERT. 


CHAPTEK XII. 

We sEaU not attempt a full description of the 
travels of Emily and Carrie Herbert, 'vvith their 
mother and uncle. They set out about the 
middle of August, and were until the last week 
in October travelling in the Northern States. 
During this time they visited West Point, Sar- 
atoga, and Niagara ; Boston, Providence, and 
New Haven. Wherever they went, Mrs. Her- 
bert took care to point out to them every thing 
of interest, and to narrate to them all the his- 
torical incidents connected with the places 
which they visited, or in sight of which they 
passed. In this way they learned much of 
their own country, and its history, which books 
would have taught them less pleasantly, and 
less impressively. 


EMILY HERBERT. 


147 


The last week in October they commenced 
their journey South. They passed a few days 
in Philadelphia, and several weeks in Washing- 
ton. From Washington they visited Mount 
V ernon. They also visited the site of the first 
successful English settlement in North Amer- 
ica at Jamestown — spent a few days at Kich- 
mond, the capital of Virginia, and then pro- 
ceeded to Charleston, Savannah, and even as 
far south as to St. Augustine, in East Florida. 
In these cities of the far South — Charleston, 
Savannah, and St. Augustine — ^it seemed to 
them that winter had forgotten to come. It is 
true they had, now and then, a day of cold 
weather, but this did not seem to touch the 
trees, which were in full foliage ; or the roses, 
camelias, and other fiowers, which were in full 
bloom in the open air. 

The first week in April saw our travellers 
again in New York, but not in Bank-street. Mr. 
Kichardson had a great desire for large rooms, 
and plenty of air ; so he had bought a large house 
on Washington Park, not far from Mrs. Her- 
berPs former home. During his absence it had 


148 


EMILY HERBERT. 


been repainted and completely furnished — Mrs. 
Layton ha'sdng kindly volunteered to choose the 
furniture, and Charlie having attended to all 
the details. Emily and Carrie were enchanted 
with their new home, and especially with their 
own pretty room, opening into their mother's, 
and furnished with all that was pretty and con- 
venient for such a room, even to a set of book 
shelves, of which the two lower ones were filled 
with tales, infant poems, and all such books as 
were suitable to Carrie, now over eight years 
old ; and the others with histories, travels, 
memoirs, and a few volumes of poetry for Emi- 
ly, who was nearly thirteen. 

You will perhaps think that now all Mrs. 
Herbert's cares for her children were at an end, 
but it was not so, for she felt that there was dan- 
ger in their present condition of some things 
worse than poverty — she knew they were in dan- 
ger of becoming proud, and vain, and selfish, and 
exacting ; and she knew, too, that these qualities 
would make them more unhappy than any pri- 
vations, mortifications or labors which poverty 
had infiicted. Carefully did she watch and ear- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


149 


nestly did she pray that they might he kept from 
these evil dispositions. She did not forget her- 
self, nor did she permit them to forget their life 
in Bank-street. Neither was it remembered alto- 
gether with pain, for its few humiliations were 
felt to be greatly overbalanced by its home-de- 
lights, — by the loving thoughts which made labor 
light, and brightened even the dark hours of sick- 
ness and despondency. The Misses Duncan were 
' often visited, not condescendingly, hut with the 
affectionate and grateful respect due to their past 
kindness, and many a comfort found its way to 
the neat parlors in Bank-street which their own- 
ers could not have afforded to purchase for them- 
selves, Even Bridget was found, and became a 
servant in their new home. 

Immediately on their arrival in New York in 
April, Emily and Carrie began their attendance 
on Mrs. Wilmot's school and their music lessons 
at home, Mr. Kichardson having purchased for 
them a piano of remarkably fine tone. Mrs. 
Wil mot's school was closed during the months 
of July and August, and then Mr. Kichardson 
took his niece and her children travelling again. 


150 


EMILY HERBERT. 


They did not visit the places to •which they had 
been the last summerj but stopped at others of less 
note — at some, because they -were in the midst 
of beautiful scenery, at others, because Mr. Kich- 
ardson had some pleasant recollection associating 
them with his boyish days. One of these places 
was the pretty little village of S in Con- 

necticut. Here they were set down at the only 
inn, and ushered into a neat parlor by the land- 
lord, who left them there, saying the chambermaid • 
would come to show them to their rooms. The 
next moment they heard him calling for J ulye 
— Julye,"" and soon the door opened, and Julia 
Day, dressed in a very much soiled silk dress, 
very short both in the skirt and sleeves, the hem 
torn in several places and hanging in festoons 
about her ankles, without stockings, and wearing 
coarse shoes, with her hair in evident need of a 
brush, and bearing token of the haste with which 
it had been twisted into a horn comb at the back 
of the head, presented herself, and asked if she 
should show the ladies to their rooms. From the 
moment she stood in the doorway, Emily's eyes 
had been fastened on her with an astonished ex- 


EMILY HERBERT. 


151 


pressioDj bui when she heard her voice, she dart- 
ed towards her, crying, Oh ! Julia Day/' 

Julia turned quickly, and gazed on her a mo- 
ment with a flushing face. In that moment she 
remembered all her past rudeness to Emily. Mrs. 
Wilmot's school and the Newport boat were be- 
fore her — and, covering her face with her hands, 
she burst into tears. Emily hastened towards 
her, but before she could say a word, a woman 
with a child in her arms strode up to the weep- 
ing Julia, and exclaiming, “ If you don't know 
better, you vixen, than to keep the ladies waiting 
on your airs, I'U learn you," brought her uphfted 
hand down heavily, flrst on one side of Julia's 
head and then on the other. 

Oh ! pray don't box her," cried Emily, with 
tears in her eyes ; “ she used to know me long 
ago, and that made her cry. But don't cry, 
Julia ; here's my mamma, and my sister Carrie, 
and my Uncle Kichardson — no, my Uncle Rich- 
ardson has gone after that woman — he won't let 
her box you again : but who is she, J ulia ? and 
how did you come here ? and — and — " but Emily 
stopped short, for her mother's eye had warned 


152 


EMILY HERBERT. 


her there might he questions she ought not to 
ask. 

Julia longed for sympathy, and was but too 
happy to find some ear into which she could pour 
the story of her wrongs, the bitterest aggravation 
of which appeared to be that her mother, to use 
her own expression, “was enjoying herself in 
New York, while she was suffering here."^ 

Emily’s tender feelings were all keenly excited 
for her old school companion, all whose faults 
were forgotten in her sorrows. With her moth- 
er’s permission she took Julia to her room, and 
dressed her in a complete suit of her own clothes 
— the neat calico frock fitting her much better 
than the old silk which was taken off ; then she 
brushed her hair, and arranged it neatly, and 
leading her to the glass, she said, “ There, you 
look like J ulia Day, again.” 

She in reality looked far more pleasing than 
the Julia Day of Emily’s memory had done, for 
the scornful and affected airs were gone. 

Poor Julia gazed at herself for a moment with 
evident pleasure, then, as her eyes filled with tears, 
she said, “ They will take them all away when 
you go.” 


EMILY HERBERT. 


153 


But I don’t mean to go without you ; I 
mean to beg my Uncle Kichardson to take you 
too,” — and telling Julia to wait for her there, 
Emily ran down stairs to her uncle who sat in the 
piazza, with Mrs. Herbert by his side, enjoying 
the cool breeze from Long Island Sound, which 
was full in view. He held out his hand with a 
smile to Emily, as she drew near, but she gave 
him no time to speak before she exclaimed, Oh, 
uncle — I want you to do the very greatest favor 
for me you ever did in your life.” 

What is it, my pet ? ” and he drew her to 
his knee. 

Throwing her arms around his neck, she lift- 
ed her eyes to his and said, I want you to carry 
Julia Day with us, and let her he my sister and 
Carrie’s, and go to school with us, and live with 
us, and all.” 

I do not know that I can do all this ; hut 
even if I could, I have heard that this Miss J ulia 
Day was not very kind to my pet, when she 
was a fine, fashionable young lady, as Carrie 
calls it.” 

It was evident Carrie had been telling tales. 

7 ^^ 


154 


EMILY HEKBERT. 


“ Oh, but she was good sometimes, uncle, and 
you know nobody is good always ; and the Bible 
says we must forgive if we would be forgiven, 
and — ” but Emily was out of breath, and Mrs. 
Herbert found time to say, But, my child, you 
are asking what would cost your uncle a great 
deal of money."' 

“ But uncle pays so much for me, mamma, 
and I can do with half the clothes and books and 
pretty things he gives me, and the rest can go to 
Julia.” 

Talking is an easy matter, Em,” said Mr. 
Kichardson, “ but now see : you know I was to 
buy you a riding-horse when I went back — I 
should have to give probably two hundred dollars 
for such a one as I want. Will you give up the 
horse, and let me spend the two hundred dollars 
on J ulia instead ? Do not answer me too quick- 
ly — think a little — you know you have wanted 
the horse very much.” 

Emily thought — all the delight she had anti- 
cipated in this coveted acquisition came into her 
mind ; her face flushed, her eyes drooped ; but 
suddenly a harsh voice was heard crying, J ulye, 


EMILY HERBERT. 


155 


Julye, where are you ? Come along with you, 
this minute, or I'll larn you to hide yourself when 
there's work to do : " — and Emily answered 
quickly, Oh yes, uncle ! I'll give up the 
horse." 

“ Then I'll — " hut whatever Mr. Eichardson 
intended saying was interrupted by Mrs. Herbert, 
who said, “ Excuse me, my dear uncle ; but I 
think Emily is not a very good judge of what 
would he best for her young friend. I am, as I 
have already told you, greatly interested for this 
young girl, hut I think it would hardly he kind 
to take her hack to New York. But do not 
look so sad, Emily," she interrupted herself to 
say, as she saw the tears gathering in Emily's 
eyes, — go, my dear, look for Carrie, and see that 
she is ready for dinner, which will soon be on the 
table ; your uncle and I will talk over this, and 
see what can be done for J ulia." 

Emily went with a slow, reluctant step — 
never had she been so unwilling to obey her mo- 
ther. 

I really feel very much for this child, and 
think hers a case for the exercise of charity." 


156 


EMILY HERBERT. 


“ Well, I am quite willing to take tke child 
home with us, since Emily has set her heart on 
it, and to pay for her schooling and clothing, 
and so on, if you will bother yourself with 
her.'' 

“ It is not the bother, as Bridget would say," 
answered Mrs. Herbert, with a smile ; but in 
the first place, I doubt the wisdom, for the child's 
own sake, of taking her to New York, into the 
very scene of her former follies, bringing her with- 
in the infiuence of an unworthy mother, from 
whom it would be hardly proper entirely to sepa- 
rate her, if they were in the same place, and ac- 
customing her again to habits of life which she 
may not have the means to maintain in future ; 
besides, I hesitate on this course from a yet 
nearer interest ; I am not quite willing, from what 
I know of her past disposition, to make her the 
intimate companion of my own children — and 
yet, jt would be cruel, for any selfish motive, to 
leave her here." 

“ Well, what do you propose ? I see you 
have thought of the subject more than I." 

I have not ceased to think of it from the 


EMILY HERBERT. 


157 


moment I saw that woman strike her. Oh, 
uncle ! how I should thank you. But for you I 
might have been dead, and that might have 
been my own Emily.’" 

The mother grew pale, and shuddered, and 
Mr. Eichardson turned away his face, with a 
choking sensation in his throat. Presently he 
turned towards his niece again to say, “ She 
must he taken away, that’s certain ; what shall 
we do with her ? ” 

“ Put her to a good school in some place 
less full of temptation to her than New York. 
The excellent school we visited yesterday at 
Fairfield would do admirably. Clothe her com- 
fortably and neatly, and give her every advan- 
tage of education till she is able to support her- 
self by teaching.” 

That’s the very thing. I’ll go to the man 
and make arrangements at once.” 

But it was not so easy to make arrange- 
ments with Mr. MiUen as Mr. Eichardson 
thought. 

Mrs. MiUen,” — ^for he had married since 
Julia came to him — wanted her to mind the 


158 


EMILY HERBERT. 


cliild — she looked smarter when she was dressed 
np than any of them Irish things.'’" And from 
this position neither Julia's tears, Emily's en- 
treaties, nor Mr. Kichardson's arguments, could 
move him. It was very sad to leave the poor 
child in such a situation ; and Mrs. Herbert 
whispered to her at parting, I will find out 
where your mother is, my dear, and perhaps 
she will allow you to come to us." 

This promise was not forgotten. As soon 
as Mrs. Herbert returned to Hew York, she 
made inquiries respecting Mrs. Day's present 
residence. It was not difficult to find her, for 
Mrs. Layton was one who could not refuse to 
visit, in her reduced circumstances, any person 
whom she had visited in her more prosperous 
days. She knew Mrs. Day's place of residence, 
had been there, and now offered to accompany 
Mrs. Herbert, who gladly accepted the offer. 
They found Mrs. Day in a large boarding-house, 
in a fashionable street — ^for appearances must 
be preserved. The parlors into which they 
were shown were showily furnished ; but the 
servant who ushered them in and received their 


EMILY HERBERT. 


159 


cards, called to anotlier, while yet within their 
hearing, to take them up to the hack attic to 
Mrs. Day, and tell her the ladies were waiting 
to see her. They had to wait some time, Mrs. 
Day requiring to dress herself before she could 
appear. 

Mrs. Layton introduced her friend, in whom 
Mrs. Day failed to recognize the object of her 
contempt on board the Newport boat, two years 
before. Mrs. Herbert felt some hesitation in 
beginning to speak of J ulia, but Mrs. Day made 
an opening for her, by asking where she had 
spent the summer. Answering that she had 
spent a few weeks travelling in the New Eng- 
land States, Mrs. Herbert added that she had 

spent a day in the village of S , and had 

there seen Miss Julia Day. Mrs. Day started 
and colored very much, but as she said nothing, 
Mrs. Herbert resumed, I hope I shall not dis- 
please you, Mrs. Day, by speaking to you of 
your daughter's situation, for I am sure you 
must be unacquainted with it." 

Mrs. Day's face reddened still more, and 
she laughed an embarrassed laugh as she said, 


160 


EMILY HERBERT. 


You think my brother rather a rough diamond 
— ^well, I acknowledge it ; and I have been a 
little afraid that Julia would lose her ladylike 
appearance and manners ; hut there is no dan- 
ger hut she will have friends and admirers 
enough if my brother only leaves her his fortune 
— for he is rich, Mrs. Herbert, though you 
would hardly believe it, to see how he lives.” 

But however rich he may he, what chance 
is there 'of his leaving his fortune to your 
daughter, Mrs. Day, when he has a wife and 
child of his own ? ” 

“ A wife and child ! ” and Mrs. Day fixed 
her eyes in wonder upon Mrs. Herbert — hut 
it is impossible — you must be mistaken, ma- 
dam.” 

Indeed, I am not — I saw both wife and 
child. Your brother gave his wife's wish to 
have Julia mind her child, as a reason why he 
would not part with her when we would have 
brought her away ; our pity having been greatly 
excited, by seeing that she was not only neg- 
lected, but very much abused — the woman — 
your brother's wife, I mean, having beaten her 


EMILY HEEBEKT. 


161 


in our presence, only for weeping at the sight 
of one whom she had seen before/' 

“ Beaten her ! Beaten my child, Julia 
Day ! Made her mind her child ! " And Mrs. 
Day hurst into tears. Doubtless anger and 
pride had a great deal to do with those tears, 
yet there must have been some real sorrow 
mingled with these feelings, for however hard 
and selfish she might be, she was stiU a mother, 
and must have felt for her child. 

Mrs. Herbert at least thought so, for her 
ready tears rose in sympathy with a mother's 
grief, and she said, with a kindly expression in 
her very voice, I would not have told you this, 
Mrs. Day, if I had not some comfort to offer 
you. I come to-day as a messeuger from an- 
other, an elderly gentleman who has only lately 
returned from India, and is quite unknown to 
you. He is a benevolent man, with wealth 
enough to do what his kindly nature prompts. 
He has seen your daughter, and is so much in- 
terested in her that he only waits your con- 
sent to take her from her present home, and 
place her at an excellent school in Fairfield, 


162 


EMILY HERBEKT. 


Connecticut, where she will have instruction not 
only in all necessary branches of education, hut 
also in the higher accomplishments. This 
gentleman will he answerable for all her expenses 
till she has received a thorough education- — such 
an education as will enable her to support her- 
self, should it he needful.'' 

May I not see the gentleman himself? " 
He would prefer not to see you at present. 
You will he able to judge yourself of the fidelity 
with which he performs his promise, for if you 
consent, Julia will spend her vacations with me, 
and you will of course see her." 

Consent ! certainly I consent, gratefully, 
and I only hope the time may come, my dear 
Mrs. Herbert, when I may he able to return 
some of the favors showered on my child by you 
and this kind unknown." 

Mrs. Hay could be veiy pleasant and polite 
on occasion, and she was quite disposed to he so 
now, for she was saying to herself, Who knows 
hut this rich gentleman from India may adopt 
Julia, or he may even marry her hy and hy." 
How Mr. Kichardson would have laughed, if he 


EMILY HERBERT. 


163 


could liave known her thoughts ! If he did not 
laugh, he was very much pleased when Mrs. 
Herbert brought him a letter from Mrs. Day, 
empowering him to claim her daughter, and 
inclosing another for her brother. 

Ho time was lost by Mr. Kichardson in put- 
ting his kind intentions into effect. Julia, 
though a little disappointed at finding she was 
not to return to Hew York, was too happy to 
be relieved from rags and ill treatment, to feel 
any thing but pleasure long. Perhaps nothing 
gave her greater pleasure than the sight of the 
contents of a trunk brought by Mr. Kichardson. 
There was in it an abundant supply of under- 
clothing of every kind, with good stockings, 
neat gaiter boots, and a few dresses. Of these 
last, Mrs. Herbert had been afraid to have new 
ones made without having Julians measure, and 
accordingly sent some of Emily's, only to serve 
Julia till her own could be made in Fairfield. 
Mrs. Herbert would have sent nothing but the 
plainest calico dresses, as they were only for 
temporary use, but Emily begged so earnestly, 
that she could not refuse to put one white 
dress and one nice muslin into the trunk. 


164 


EMILY HERBERT. 


And SO Emily Herbert fulfilled the precepts, 
Forgive as ye would be forgiven,^'— “ Do good 
to those that despitefully use you,"' — and which 
do my readers suppose was the happier of these 
two young girls ; Julia Day, as she bade farewell 
to her harsh aunt and uncle, and her disagree- 
able home in S , and set out with kind Mr. 

Kichardson for the pretty village of Fairfield, 
where she was to find once more the kind atten- 
tions to her comfort, and the opportunities for 
improvement which she had, we hope, better 
learned to value — or Emily Herbert, as she saw 
her uncle set out, and knew that, through her 
intercession, her former companion was about to 
be rescued from a very hard and painful life, 
and placed in ease and comfort ? If you are in 
any doubt for an answer to this question, re- 
member who has said it is more blessed to give 
than to receive, and the doubt will be at once 
removed. 

Trust in Him who had heard her first simple 
prayer, that He would make her forgive Julia 
Day," was not the only important lesson which 
these events were calculated to teach to Emily 


EMILY HERBERT. 


165 


Herbert, and to all who read the bistory of ber 
cbildbood. They teacb, we tbink, emphatically 
tbe folly and madness of pride. We may learn 
from them that while it is a foobsb thing in 
any to glory in those distinctions which must 
all he laid down ere we enter the house ap- 
pointed for all living ; it is especially foolish 
in those who live in a land like ours, where 
property is acquired and lost so easily, that 
the son of the laborer frequently becomes rich 
and powerful, and the son of him who was rich 
and powerful, if he have not energy and cour- 
age enough to become a laborer, often sinks into 
a dependant or an outcast. Not less forcibly do 
they inculcate the lesson, that neither wealth 
nor poverty, but loving hearts and a cheerful 
performance of those duties which our Heaven- 
ly Father has assigned us by His providence, 
make a happy home. 


THE END. 









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